Simple Things
by Keiran
Summary: A Saiyuki spin on Twilight. Goku becomes the focal point of a vampire's life, but he is not going to let that slow him down. 39, 58, horror, vampirism.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Simple Things  
Rating: 16  
Pairings: 39, 58  
Genre: horror  
Wordcount: 60k  
Warnings: cannibalism is discussed, vampirism is in effect  
Summary: People want simple things. Sanzo wants his efforts recognised. Goku wants a home. Hakkai wants his friends to clean up after themselves. Gojyo wants beer.

Author notes: This fic is sponsored by Twilight, enabled by **moshesque** and **eyesofshinigami**, and also sister (**gee_nekoi**), for keeping Twilight and sparkly vampires in my head by talking about them. XD For the record, this fic is a sparkle-free zone.

Most of the vampire lore in this fic (extra row of fangs, hidden in the tissue above maxillary teeth, beheading, the fact that they are not technically dead) I stole from Supernatural.

Betaed by **rroselavy**. *huggles Rrose* Thank you! I would also like to thank all of you, who cheered me on and provided encouragement to finish. This has been a marathon and I wouldn't have done it without you guys. *massive hugs*

As is wonky with formatting you can read the whole story on my LJ here: keire-ke. livejournal. com slash 165022. html

* * *

I.

Sanzo's trouble started when the kid arrived in town. Up until then Sanzo was happily minding his own business. Granted, his business didn't make him Mr Popular, on account of the killing, but since so few people were privy to that, no one minded. No one who would be missed died, which was the whole point. Anonymity was an advantage the big city had to offer, though from time to time Sanzo thought he should march into the City Hall and demand recognition, and a paycheck. Hell, he was doing the city a service and he deserved to have at least his costs reimbursed. True, he had no money issues – he didn't need to murder twenty-first century people for money. Not often, at least. True, the apartment didn't clean itself, and the rent wasn't what it used to be, but thanks to a few strategic murders back in 1899 and the accumulating interest, Sanzo could pay the cleaning lady for another three centuries in advance without stretching his funds. That wasn't the point. The point was that Sanzo kept the city cleaner and safer for all the pigtailed little munchkins. Deliciously fresh, pigtailed munchkins. Free of smoke and medicine, drugs and alcohol; filled with nothing but sweet blood.

Fuck. There were disadvantages to living off the homeless and the scumbags. Sure, he needn't buy alcohol no more, as half of them had Csub2/subHsub5/subOH levels well over 2‰, but sometimes, a lot of times, Sanzo craved a meal whose taste he wouldn't need to kill with a cigarette.

iFucking twenty-first century/i, Sanzo thought. He was killing time in front of the railway station, and killing time inspired musings of better times: namely the past. These days everyone had a file and everyone not locked up behind white picket fences had their fingerprints in a catalogue, which meant he had to get creative with the bodies if he wanted to stay under the radar. One of these days, Sanzo told himself, he would conquer his dislike of popsicles and move to Siberia. At least there no one raised a brow if someone went outside and didn't come back. Fucking post modernity. Things were so much easier back in the nineteenth century. No one minded that the occasional corpse in the gutter was bloodless, with his throat torn out.

It was quieter, too. Sanzo winced when the 9:16 pm train from Letchworth rolled in, roaring and spitting. A happy coincidence had it that his next meal was arriving on that train, a drug dealer who called himself Monty Fries. Sanzo dropped the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. Small game drug dealers were surprisingly decent eating. They didn't shoot up, not in public anyway, and they carried a lot of cash. Which was just as well, Sanzo was out of cigs.

The train door opened when the big clock high on the wall grunted and moved its larger arm to 17. Even from the distance Sanzo could hear the iwoosh/i of the hand if he concentrated. It was hard, considering he also heard hundreds of heartbeats, all of them waiting for someone – him – to turn their drumming into silence.

Sanzo hadn't seen Monty before, aside from a picture, so he needed to track him by sight. Tricky, but hell, he was bored anyway.

The moment he caught sight of Monty was roughly the very same moment he caught the scent of the kid. He didn't know that it was a kid, precisely. Not right away. At first whiff it seemed merely the indication of a summer rain, which would be nice and well if it weren't November and the sky wasn't cloudless. Then the scent intensified and Sanzo choked. He smelled the sweat and cheap shower gel, the kind that was two in one, shampoo and soap. There was the hint of what passed for peach in factory circles, all but faded. Who cared about the package, though, when the content was so much more fascinating?

The kid was male. Young, but then again, next to Sanzo, who was ever old? Too old, perhaps, to be one of the munchkins Sanzo was dead set on not eating, for some inane reason, though not old enough to lose his appeal. He was no child, though. Sanzo was ready to change his mind about his dietary regime – if the kid tasted half as good as he smelled, this would be an epic meal.

Monty bought a newspaper in the kiosk Sanzo was leaning against and left. Sanzo barely noticed. His eyes were closed as he focused on the approaching kid. He held the breath he didn't need in anticipation. Just one more second, one more – and there he was. Sanzo didn't open his eyes, just let the air out and drew another breath.

Huh. A very nasty smile twisted his mouth. Veiling the scent of blood was a layer of dust. Wherever this kid was from, he'd left an empty apartment there; he smelled of a lonely journey on top of a lonely life, tinged by a little apprehension. Sanzo opened his eyes to take in the figure, which was just a little brighter, for its golden scent, than the crowd filling the station. This was a kid no one would miss, Sanzo thought, pushing away from the booth and following at a discreet distance. He had no need for keeping the boy in his sight, not once he had the smell burned into his nostrils, the call was strong enough. He didn't want to waste one minute.

II.

Goku was in town just twenty minutes and already he was friends with his landlord, a very peculiar fellow with striking green eyes. This wasn't an accomplishment. Goku prided himself on being friendly to anyone who was not displaying obvious hostility. The landlord, though… If Goku were to be truthful, the man was scaring him, despite his pleasant smile and welcoming manners. He had the look of a man who would be capable of inviting him in for a tea party into a room full of dolls and tiny plastic cups, to talk with the dolls and watch a bloodstain spread on the carpet. Goku wouldn't be at all surprised if there were a body in the living room, chopped to pieces for easier storage. Still, the apartment was cheap and the neighbourhood boasted the lowest crime rate in the Western district. Altogether it was about everything he might expect, so he swallowed his doubts, smiled and nodded when the man gave him his key.

He fought not to watch his back as he walked up the stairs, even though he had seen the man close the door, and he heard no footsteps following him. It didn't stop the smile from haunting Goku all the way to number 9, his new home. He flipped on the light, dropped his bag in the main room, and paused to rub at his eyes. It was a living room, and there was a door on one wall. It led to another room, a tiny one – a queen-sized bed filled it wall to wall, leaving enough space at the foot for a thin cabinet. The room was so small that if he stepped in and closed the door, he would have been unable to turn without hurting his elbows. He went back to the living room, past the only piece of furniture – an ugly couch – and into the kitchenette, which was hidden from view by a large fern.

"They sure as hell don't like fat people in here," Goku said out loud, squeezing through the half-opened door to the bathroom. It was clean, he noted with surprise. The floor was covered with tiles, there was a bath, not a cockroach in sight, and everything seemed to be in order. The water, when he turned the knob, flowed freely, clear and warm. Goku turned the knob further and inhaled the steam. Aside from a touch of chlorine, he smelled nothing.

Goku marched downstairs and knocked on the landlord's door once more. "Hi," he said when the door opened. "I think there's some mistake with my flat."

"Oh? I checked it myself this morning, everything was as advertised."

"Yeah, but I was expectin', dunno, a room with a mattress in it. 's what all th' other apartments I could afford were."

"Let me check," the man said and withdrew into his flat, leaving Goku to admire the disaster the painter made of the corridor. At least something lived up to expectations. "Son Goku," the man flipped his notebook open, "I noted one person, £55 a week. Is that incorrect?"

"No, 's what I remember sayin' too."

The man smiled. "Then there is no mistake. Call it a bargain."

That settled it. There was a corpse in his fridge and Goku was going to be sold into slavery as soon as he closed his eyes for the night. He contemplated grabbing his bag and making a run for it, but at this hour he figured he'd end up with his throat slit on the riverbed, if he was lucky. "Thanks," he said, scratching his head.

"I don't advertise," the landlord informed him, "which is why there wasn't a waiting list. The previous occupant had just moved out and you called at the right time."

"Oh. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," Goku said from his stomach before his head could intervene. He was always hungry.

"I have some left over stew in the fridge. Give me a moment." A moment later he was back with a Tupperware container filled to the brim with a chunky brown sludge with chunks. "Heat it up slowly," the man cautioned, "stirring occasionally. Some fresh thyme could not go amiss, but I'm afraid I have none at the moment."

"Thank you," Goku said. He'd plans to have ramen noodles and now he had pork stew. It was delicious, lack of fresh thyme notwithstanding, though it could have done with some garlic. Goku brought the pot to bed and ate with his back against one wall, staring out the narrow window. If he had a couple of planks and nails he would nail the door closed at night, but alas, he was all out. This was all too good to be true. Goku didn't consider himself unlucky, but there was luck and there was finding a cheap apartment with free, tasty food. In his experience, the latter just didn't happen. When he was done eating, he shoved the pot under the bed, unrolled his sleeping bag and slept dreamlessly.

III.

There was indeed a corpse in the fridge. Hakkai wasn't too happy about that, but it was a part of the deal. Gojyo wasn't too happy about it either; he liked his steaks bloody and fresh. Neither would move against the arrangement though – it worked to everyone's benefit. Sanzo thought them morons, for the way they shared their living space and food supply, but Sanzo had been a lone wolf for such a long time, he couldn't fathom the pleasures of company. It was invaluable on the long nights, which happened an awful lot across the centuries. Mostly though, the arrangement allowed for frequent sex, and that even Sanzo couldn't dis.

"Feet off the table, Gojyo," Hakkai said, walking back into the living room.

"Screw you," Gojyo replied and took his feet off the table. It was that time of the month when he was at his worst behaviour. Thankfully, Hakkai, while not strictly a dog person, understood animal urges and baser natures enough to tolerate his partner's cravings to scratch his head with his toes.

"Whiskey," Sanzo said, dropping to the floor from the window.

"Your meal disagreeing with you?" Gojyo asked, grinning.

"Fuck you."

"I would appreciate it if you started coming in through the door." Hakkai handed Sanzo a glass and watched him drop heavily onto the couch. "I do advise you to stop feeding on those lowlifes, Sanzo. It cannot be healthy."

"Yes, because I have been sick so many times over the past two hundred years."

"There was that one time…"

"There was also a long, hot summer, a warm corpse and dead blood. Now kindly shut the fuck up."

"Someone is tetchy," Gojyo observed, rising from the couch. He sniffled the air and grinned. "Dude! You haven't eaten tonight!"

"Go to hell."

"I have some blood leftover," Hakkai said.

"I have a burning need to stick a pencil in your ear."

"It's not-"

"If you dare to say healthy, I will hurt you."

"All I'm saying is that you should be taking better care of yourself."

Sanzo rolled his eyes and finished his whiskey. Hakkai started picking up the book he'd dropped to answer Goku's knocking, when Sanzo turned his head away from both him and Gojyo, and fixed his stare on the door, which lead to the stairwell. "He was here," he said, and a strange kind of tension gripped his muscles.

"He? Oh, Goku you mean?"

"What's it to you?" Gojyo asked. Sanzo said nothing.

"Goku smells rather delicious, I was surprised you didn't notice." Hakkai sat down, keeping his gaze on Sanzo. His reaction was very peculiar.

"Hey, meat is meat."

"Boor," Sanzo snorted.

"Werewolf, actually. I see you're sharp as ever."

"He's renting the apartment above us." Hakkai opened his book. "Since he's been recommended the place by Gojyo's brother, I suggest you refrain from consuming him." He paused to turn a page. "At least until we come up with an explanation decent enough for his untimely demise."

"He could go missing. Run away or such," Gojyo said, stretching. "I can do away with the corpse in a week, no problem, the fridge is big enough, and he should be a good eating."

"What happened to meat is meat?" Sanzo said.

"Dude, just because my food don't speak to me, doesn't mean I have no taste buds. The kid is young and he smells more than nice." Gojyo sat up straight and licked his lips. "Okay, now I'm hungry."

"Your brother sent him here, Gojyo. Unless this was an elaborate murder attempt on his part, we have to assume he knows and likes Goku, likes him enough to help him out and not to feed him to a werewolf."

"A, he has no idea, and B, c'mon. Plenty of people go missing on a daily basis in this district alone."

"I am aware of that," Hakkai said, amused. "We're the reason they go missing."

"Exactly."

"No," Sanzo said, setting the glass on the table with a loud clang. "He's mine."

"Says who!"

"I saw him first."

"He lives in our building!"

"All the more reason for you not to make a snack out of him."

"Gojyo, you still have the pleasant nurse in the refrigerator."

"Yeah, but she's dead!"

"I'd hope so, given her condition."

"I said he's mine," Sanzo repeated and Hakkai just had to raise a brow in a manner he knew Sanzo hated. iOh?/i was the question the brow asked, and Sanzo had fought endless battles not to succumb to the question. He had yet to win. "I saw him first," he said lamely.

"We heard of him first," Hakkai pointed out.

"Because that holds so much weight," Gojyo told his glass.

"Whose side are you on, exactly?" Sanzo asked, turning to him.

"Why are you protesting? I'm backing you up!" Then a light flashed somewhere in the cerebral levels of the werewolf's mind. Hakkai watched it with a certain amount of trepidation, as when that light switched on, Gojyo and Sanzo ended up tearing each other's throats out. The fact that the wounds healed after a single serving of A Rh+ was of little consequence. "If you wanted to fuck the kid before eating him, you should have just said so. Fuck him during, for all I care."

Sanzo went whiter than he usually was and Hakkai sighed. Time to remove the brittle items from the vicinity.

"Hey man, I'm not judging," Gojyo continued, throwing up his hands. "Have your fun. God knows you need to get laid." He paused. "On second thought, don't fuck him during. I want some of him too and that would just be gross."

"I am going to kill you."

"Go ahead and try." Gojyo grinned with the grin of someone who knows full well that their healing ability out paces the average tearing-into-flesh ability. Sanzo, though undoubtedly capable of greater speeds, never bothered to employ them. The arrangement worked on so many levels.

"I don't want blood on my furniture," Hakkai said, glaring at the two. "You get anything dirty, you are cleaning it up yourselves." Normally he would be more accepting. This happened when one's werewolf boyfriend and vampire friend got together. It was inevitable that someone's trachea would end up hitting the TV screen. As it were, however, his supply of blood was low and just the last morning he'd been removing viscera from the ceiling (he didn't know how it happened – e'd turned his back for one minute). He was in no mood for another fight.

IV.

"Hey," Gojyo said, leaning against the doorframe and inhaling. The air filled his lungs via his nose and Gojyo had an olfactory orgasm, which was only a little less embarrassing than an actual one. The kid smelled heavenly.

If one's culinary tastes ran towards human flesh, and Gojyo's did, Goku was a walking invitation to dig in. Though the werewolf usually tended to satiate his hunger with pork. It was the equivalent of managing a cigarette craving with lollipops, but at least his health wasn't in any peril. Hakkai and Sanzo were less lucky – their appetites wouldn't be so easily satisfied by inhuman means. This was a lousy way to phrase it, Gojyo thought, wincing. Means that humans wouldn't pay attention to?

"Hey," Goku said, opening the door wide enough to admit a gang inside.

"Okay, first thing," Gojyo said stepping into the flat, "this is not East Buggersville. You do not open the door to strangers. For all you know, I'm Hannibal Lecter, here for your liver." Hannibal Lecter might have been wrong on that account, however. The kid's heart would be much nicer. Gojyo could hear its beat, steady and loud, healthy and young and red, and fuck, when was the last time he got to gulp down a fresh human heart? They were all alone here and Goku smelled so good up close. His blood pulsed beneath his golden skin, the beat an invitation that the hunger in Gojyo found itself eagerly RSVPing to.

There was the slight problem of blood spattering though. Human blood was harder to clean than that of werewolves or vampires – it didn't decompose as fast. Hakkai would kill him if they had to scrub the apartment clean again so soon. The fresh paint had barely dried. Still, there was the bathtub… The body would be simple to deal with, all succulent flesh and stringy sinew, neither would present a challenge to a werewolf's teeth. He could devour Goku whole, with none the wiser – not in one go, perhaps, but that's what the refrigerators were for.

"What do I do then, scream through th' door?" Goku asked, scowling. "Besides, I could so kick your ass."

Not no one. Sanzo would know, damn stalking freak that he was, and he'd kill him. Hurt him a lot, at least.

"You wish," he told the kid, dropping on the couch. The dickhead was territorial, damn him. All he could hope for was convincing Hakkai and Sanzo there was good eating off the kid. It was only sensible. The nature of their respective condition allowed for some self-control, but even saints had been known to break their fast when a feast was laid out in front of them.

Gojyo took a look around the room. The couch, the only piece of furniture, was pushed against a wall. Goku had been exercising before Gojyo came knocking – the scent of fresh sweat, on top of the blood, was crying to the werewolf in a voice so loud he was close to stuffing his fingers in his ears and singing. It wouldn't help much, but it would be a distraction.

"Who are you, anyway?" Goku asked, cocking his head to the side.

"You let a stranger into your place and then you ask him who he is? It's a wonder you've lived this long."

"Shut up! What the hell do you want?" Goku was getting worried and angry. It was absurd how his anger spiced up the already irresistible smell.

"Relax. I'm friends with Hakkai – the landlord. I live downstairs, number 5. I'm Gojyo."

"Goku." The boy relaxed and held out his hand.

God, but this kid was painfully naïve, Gojyo thought. They should probably eat him for his own good, before someone took advantage- Huh. Well, at least they'd try to make it comfortable. "So, you've got any beer?"

"No, haven't done the shopping yet."

"You didn't bring any?"

"Beer's not high on my shoppin' list."

"You need to learn about life, kid," Gojyo said, grinning, "and the pleasures of drinking."

"And you're th' tutor I get? Thanks, I'll pass."

"You could do worse, trust me."

"Whatddya want?"

"Actually, we are having a little drinking party downstairs. If you want to join us?"

"It's noon." Goku scrunched up his nose and Gojyo would have cooed, if the saliva wasn't about to spill out of his mouth if he opened it too far.

"Which is why Hakkai insists on tea, not whiskey, but what can you do. He made sponge cake, with raspberries," he added, and watched Goku's eyes shine.

"Lemme shower first," Goku said. "I'll be down in a minute." Gojyo waved him away and left the flat feeling vaguely satisfied. His day had just got interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

V.

There was a knock on the door and Hakkai went to open. Sanzo continued brooding, because couldn't care less about guests. It was only when the open door allowed in a draft with a wave of the visitor's scent that he sat up straight, torn between shock and fury.

iFuck/i, Sanzo thought, saliva swelling in his mouth. "Who the fuck let him in here?" he asked Gojyo, his suspicion already confirmed.

"Hey, be nice," Gojyo said, an evil grin on his fucking face. "He's new in town. I figure we should let him know it's not all dark alleys and dead bodies."

"Funny, what's the nurse in your refrigerator called?"

"Madam Morphine, not that it matters."

One of these days Sanzo was going to kill the goddamned werewolf, by way of a silver spork.

"Hi," said the infernal kid. His hair was dark with water, droplets of which still clung to the strands. He must have showered only minutes ago; the artificial peach smell wafted through the air as strong as it would be in a bottle. Sanzo held on to it, because if he focused on the crude fruit approximation he wasn't focusing on the sweeter, infinitely more potent, tang of human flesh. "I'm Goku."

"He's Sanzo," Gojyo said thirty seconds later. Sanzo'd had no intention of replying. He'd been taught not to play, or talk, with his food – it was a lesson a nanny beat into the children of the nineteenth century. "You have to forgive him, he's shy around strangers."

"Shut up," he hissed in Gojyo's direction, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Goku snickered. Okay, that was it. The kid was his dessert and woe to him who stood in his way.

"Here's the cake. I hope you find this enough an excuse for the visit."

Damn Hakkai, Sanzo thought, gritting his teeth. Goku flushed, and scratched the side of his nose. "Sorry. Um. I didn't mean…"

"Nothing to be ashamed of. It wouldn't be polite of me to invite guests without having anything to serve them," Hakkai said. Sanzo knew the smile. Knew and hated it. This was the smile Hakkai reserved for his scientific inquiries, such as figuring what was it about the boy's blood that called to them so.

"Thanks," Goku said, and Sanzo fought the growl emerging from the depths of his throat. The kid's lips wrapped around the fork and his eyes closed in bliss. Sanzo swallowed and nearly impaled his tongue on his extending fangs. "This is awesome," Goku said, licking the fork, his tongue flicking out of his mouth, coating his lips with a sheen of wetness.

Sanzo's fingers closed around the armrest of the chair. iFuck/i, he thought. Goku's pink tongue flitted between his lips again, to remove a tiny speck of cream from his lower lip. Sanzo was certain that, were it not for the audience, he would have been kneeling over Goku already, his teeth wedged against the collarbone. There would be blood, seeping out of the wound, flowing freely down his skin as the boy struggled, its scent mingling with the factory peach and the despicable spring flower detergent Hakkai used on the carpets. The boy would thrash in his hold, but in the end he would grow immobile against the floor, and Sanzo would drink of him until there was not one drop of blood in his veins. With the scent filling his nostrils, the vision was a hair's breadth away from tangible and, though it seemed like the greatest paradox since Einstein sent a twin into space, that exact vision stopped Sanzo in his tracks. When he tore Goku open and feasted on his blood, it wouldn't be on a dusty carpet, smelling of dog. No, a meal of such quality demanded a worthy setting.

"I feel really bad about not bringing anything," Goku was saying. He looked up at Hakkai as he talked, exposing his neck. Sanzo focused on the beat of the carotid artery. He could hear the blood, he could hear the beat, he could hear the rhythm of the flow, so tantalising, and only three feet away, protected by next to nothing. Just one small step, and…

"What the fuck!" he exploded, leaping from his seat.

"Was that your foot? I'm so sorry," Hakkai said, taking a seat on the couch. Sanzo gave him a look that could scorch a rice paddy. "How clumsy of me. Cake?"

"No." Sanzo leaned back against the couch. He fixed his gaze on the cast iron teakettle on the table. The engraving that marred its rusty-coloured surface was of cherry blossoms. They circled the circumference, a line of nearly darker lines, like the scratches human fingernails would leave on the floor when fed from and- goddamnit! There it was again.

"I, uh. I better go," Goku said suddenly. Sanzo didn't look up, but he heard the plate being set on the table. "I have ta unpack and do some other stuff. Shopping and such." He stood up, shuffling his feet against the carpet. He looked down. "Ya have a dog?"

"No, a friend is a very canine person." Hakkai tipped the cup and finished his tea. "Do you really have to go?"

Sanzo heard the blood rush to Goku's cheeks. His fingers tightened on the armrest. Any sooner and ugly carpet or no, he would have the boy right there, on the floor.

"Yeah, sorry," the kid said. He was gone the next minute, but Sanzo couldn't get his heartbeat to settle.

VI.

"That wasn't very polite of you, Sanzo," Hakkai said, locking the door behind Goku. "He is our neighbour now, and you spend so much time here with us that-" but the rest of his words died in the crunch of an armrest being crushed to pieces.

Hakkai stood, wordlessly, over Sanzo, watching him fight his breathing under control. His hand had splinters the size of knitting needles sticking out of it.

"Holy fuck," Gojyo said, his eyes bulging. "What the hell?"

"I'm going to kill him," Sanzo said, getting up. Hakkai stared at him, for once shocked out of a snide, yet polite, response.

"Wait, no!" Gojyo leapt from the couch and kicked out at Sanzo's knees. When the vampire fell to the floor he straddled the small of his back, holding his shoulders to the floor. "What the hell is wrong with you!" he yelled, digging his fingers into Sanzo's flesh.

"I need him gone," Sanzo told the floor. "I need him gone out of the building, out of the fucking city, or I will rip his throat open the next time I see him."

"Jesus fucking Christ! What is wrong with him?" Gojyo raised his head and looked at Hakkai, like he held all the answers in the universe.

"I don't know," Hakkai was forced to admit. "I've never seen him this out of control."

"Dude, you okay to get up now?"

Sanzo's fingers twitched against the carpet. "Yes."

"You won't go crazy and kill us all?"

"I am capable of handling myself," Hakkai said, folding his arms. Sanzo was older than he, by a couple of decades, but previous occasions indicated they were evenly matched, strength-wise.

"Yeah, I was kinda thinking more the kid upstairs. Sanzo was this close to tearing his throat out."

"Let him go, I think Goku's left the building."

Sanzo sat up, his head low. Hakkai watched him pick the wood out of his palm. "He needs to go," he said. "Either he goes, or I go."

This was worrying, Hakkai thought. This was very worrying. "Sanzo, if you won't control yourself, I will lock you up in the basement."

"I can't," Sanzo said, taking long, careful breaths through parted lips. "He drives me insane."

"I've seen you walk away from nubile virgins in their boudoirs."

"He's not normal. He's bizarre," Sanzo said. "He needs to die, or leave the city."

"We can't kick him out, and we can't kill him," Hakkai said, with as much conviction as he could muster. Killing would be the best option. It had all the advantages of being permanent, plus the bonus of a delicious meal, but because it was such a good plan, it was out. They had agreed, when they came to stay in the city, that they wouldn't kill people whose disappearance would cause more troubles than it solved. Their condition required that they fed regularly, but the hungers yielded to their will, so long as they were in some manner satiated. With the hunger under control they could almost pass as humans, which was good enough for the big city. Living outside society was only entertaining for a while – even monsters needed a measure of human proximity that wasn't related to dietary habits, particularly if they needed to cultivate the vestiges of human souls within. One child was not going to jeopardise that, nor Gojyo's already strained family relations.

"Leave town," Hakkai said.

Sanzo looked up. "I can't," he said, miserable for the first time since Hakkai made his acquaintance. "I can't." he stared down at his mangled hand. The thick vampire blood seeped through the cuts on his palm, filling the groove of his lifeline. "Fuck." The wounds were already closing. In a matter of minutes all that would be left of the incident was the broken armrest and a dark, bloody stain on the carpet.

"Jesus," Gojyo whispered. "What the hell is going on?" he asked Hakkai.

"Best theory I have is Sanzo reacts to Goku's pheromones."

"Seriously? I know the kid smells good, but this is pushing it."

"Our sense of smell is finely tuned." Hakkai watched Sanzo with a critical eye. The fair-headed vampire was, in his own special way, swaying on his feet, as if he were feverish. This was, of course, ridiculous. Vampires didn't get sick. "Sanzo, I swear, you make a wrong move and I will put you down like a dog," he snapped, ignoring Gojyo's whine at the phrasing.

"I'd rather kill him," Sanzo said.

"I feel obliged to inform you that it just hit the top of the list of things that will get you decapitated."

"Yeah, but what a way to go it would be," Gojyo mused, grinning when the two vampires turned to glare at him. "Oh please, give me a break. I might not have a medical degree, but I'm not a moron. The kid has the kind of blood that went out of fashion with the catholic virgins in the nineteenth century. No wonder you're in so deep, considering your usual."

"I do hate to disillusion you," Hakkai said, "but there were very few genuinely pure virgins of a relevant age in the nineteenth century. And the blood quality left a lot to be desired as well. Malnutrition and anaemia were rampant."

"Sure, rob a man of his fantasies."

"He doesn't affect you," Sanzo said.

"Oh, he has an effect, trust me." Hakkai smiled, letting the fangs slide out of his gums. He could taste the boy even now, taste him on the tip of his tongue. Across the years he'd come across only a few individuals whose blood appealed to him so, the first, the worst and most divine, being his own sister. Hakkai had always been curious what it was exactly that inspired such a reaction in a vampire, and now he had a test subject. He wasn't going to let him out of his hands.

"You don't seem as crazy."

"Personal preference does play a part, it's not just the quality," Hakkai said, turning towards the kitchen. "I do think it might be a pheromone response. We do see best with our noses, after all." A bit of an understatement, but the human language only had so many words for sensory perception, few of them accurate for a vampire's experience.

"I love how you can cheapen the moment."

"Excuse me?"

"Sanzo, get laid," Gojyo said. "It ought to help."

"What was it you said about cheapening the moment?" Hakkai smiled, watching Sanzo help himself to a pint of blood from the fridge and chug it straight from the bag.

"Just telling it like it is."

"I'm leaving," Sanzo said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He then licked the red mist from his skin. As an afterthought he licked the palm clean as well, removing last traces of injury.

"Where are you going?" Hakkai asked.

"I don't know. I'll grab a paper on the way to the airport."

"Colombia has the highest murder rate these days," Gojyo said.

Sanzo rolled his eyes. "Yes, let the vampire go to the equator, because I don't have a history of bad sunburn."

"It is the wet season," Hakkai said. "Gojyo is right, the crime rates are insane, and the crime lords are so cruel no one will notice if you don't clean up after yourself. I'll call Kougaiji for you."

"Whatever," Sanzo said.

VII.

The shopping was the usual fare for a single student: ramen, noodles, macaroni, pasta, several cans of soup, tuna, an apple, a tub of vanilla ice cream and sprinkles. As an afterthought, Goku added a candy bar to the list, for the way home.

It was a pretty nice day, for November: the sky was cloudless, a rare phenomenon at that time of the year, and the temperature ranged on the cold side of comfortable. Goku whistled as he made his way back to his new home. Tomorrow he'd have to go see about a job, and then maybe he would feign some interest in the course he was supposed to be taking. The classes wouldn't pass themselves and he was already behind. Goku sighed. He was happy to be studying, really, but he would be the first to admit he was not the most diligent student.

The not so distant future absorbed him so that he barely noticed bumping into someone. He managed to hold on to his groceries by some miracle, but the candy bar went flying. "Shit," Goku cried. "I'm sorry."

It was that blond, Sanzo. iOh crap/i, Goku thought. "I'm sorry, I didn't notice you."

"Whatever," Sanzo said. He held up his hand – he was holding the half-eaten candy.

"You caught it? Damn, thanks!"

Sanzo raised a brow and stuffed it into Goku's mouth, still open with thanks. "Do look where you're going," he said. His voice was so low it was almost a growl, but the anger was belied by the proximity. Sanzo had leaned in so close Goku had to take a step back, to avoid the metallic smell of his breath. What the hell was the guy eating?

"It's a big pavement," he mumbled around the candy. "Ya weren't being so careful either."

"I don't need to be careful."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Goku yelled. Sanzo was already several paces away. Weird fellow. Goku stared after him, because as much a dick as he appeared, he had a damned fine arse and his jeans made no secret of the fact. "Like that's gonna happen," he snorted and went home.

On the stairs he ran into Hakkai. "Hello," the man said. He was anxious, though they had seen one another an hour earlier and, judging by the traffic on the way to the store Goku was in no danger of getting hit, unless he put some effort into it.

"Did something happen?" Goku asked, shifting the shopping bags to one hand and fishing out his key with the other.

"No, no." Hakkai looked at him, as though he was trying to see through his clothes and not in a flattering way. "Sanzo'd just left, you didn't see him, by any chance?"

"Yeah, I just ran into him, outside."

"And?"

"And what?" Goku furrowed his brows. "Look, I kinda see he don't like me much, but I swear I never met him before, and I don't think I done anything to upset him."

"Ah. I'm afraid it's a little more complicated. Just-"

"What?"

"Sanzo is… complicated."

Goku rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I can see that."

"If he's being a bother, let me know."

This was very odd, Goku thought, but nodded, because Hakkai seemed to need it. "Is he gonna try and eat me alive, or somethin'?" he asked, Gojyo's grin and the Hannibal Lecter comment flashing through his brain.

Hakkai gave him a long stare. "Not in so many words, perhaps." He forced out a small laugh and Goku blinked.

"Is he on drugs?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Hakkai replied, which might as well have been a yes.

"Oh. Okay. So, he visits you often?"

"He has an apartment downtown, but yes, he is here frequently."

So… Essentially, be careful of my hot friend, because he is here often and he might want to kill you while he's high. Great. At least this explained the mystery behind the low price. "I'll be careful," Goku promised and excused himself, because the ice cream could maintain its frozen status only for so long.

VIII.

Whatever Hakkai had to say on the subject, Gojyo was certain that Sanzo's current problem had to do with his libido, unsatisfied for far too long. Being a werewolf meant knowing what people around him had been doing for the past six weeks, and Sanzo hadn't had the scent of fucking around him in fifty years. It couldn't have been a vampire thing, Gojyo knew, because Hakkai enjoyed frequent sex and had no problem getting it up – and he was only a couple of decades younger than Sanzo. Plus, though Gojyo wouldn't say it out loud (until Sanzo was in a good mood and teasing him was relatively safe), Sanzo did get off once in a while, so it followed that the problem was not in the hardware.

There was, of course, a vast difference between masturbating and having sex. As something of an expert, Gojyo concluded that what Sanzo needed was actual sex and a diet rich in haemoglobins, if the kid upstairs was to go untouched. Colombia should offer both, provided Sanzo's idiotic head didn't get in the way. With his looks, Sanzo would have no problem attracting a bed-mate, not even one to suck dry during the night. With any luck he'd have his cell phone on him and Gojyo would be able to pester and remind him for the duration of his stay – it would be a stay too, not permanent residence. Sanzo was too fascinated, despite himself, with the kid, to risk him being eaten by someone else. Hell, if Gojyo knew Sanzo, he'd be back in three weeks, breathing fire at anyone who so much as looked at Goku during his absence, before locking the kid in the basement.

Despite the popular myth, it wasn't virginity that sweetened the blood beyond reckoning. Hell, there'd been mothers Gojyo had considered better than anything else on the market. Abstinence, however, was crucial, because who in their right mind would want to suck on someone and smell someone else's fluids. Gojyo would have to make a careful inquiry into which the kid practiced (again, werewolf nose proved handy: the amount of sex had by Goku over the last few months was zero), just so he knew whether to prepare the leather straps for Sanzo's return.

"Hey kid," he asked one day, about a week after Sanzo's departure. "Are you a virgin?"

Goku looked at him for a long moment, then went back to fighting with the lock on his door. "My name is Goku and it's none of your business."

"C'mon, indulge my curiosity."

"No, really. Not your business."

"Don't be shy, we were all there." Gojyo paused. "Some of us longer than the others."

"What is your problem?"

"I'm nosy."

"That I can see."

"Come on, share! I promise not to laugh much."

"Screw you!"

"Yeah, any day, except I would be murdered in my sleep," Gojyo said following Goku into his apartment.

"It's a wonder ya haven't been already."

"I've had a couple close calls," Gojyo said, sniffling the air one more time just to be sure. Yeah, no one but Goku and he had been in the room that week. Good news for Sanzo, bad, probably, for the kid. "So, you have anything to do here, or do you spend your days jerking off?"

This, as a bar owner would say when recounting the story, was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

IX.

"You are such a total moron," Goku told Gojyo.

"I'm a moron? Who's got toaster parts all over the kitchen, most of them plugged in?" Gojyo sucked his finger into his mouth with an expression of a wounded five year old.

"I was working on it!"

"Well, maybe if you'd worked faster, people wouldn't get burned!"

"Well, maybe if people were careful, they wouldn't stick their fingers to the wires!"

"If the wires were red, like in a normal toaster, maybe I wouldn't have touched them!"

"Maybe you oughta get a brain!"

"Maybe-- wait, pause, rewind. What were you doing with that toaster?"

Goku blinked. "I was fixing it. I got a couple of broken ones and was making one that worked."

"You were making a toaster." Gojyo was giving him a look that was part incredulity, part approval.

"More like fitting together the two that didn't work. Yeah, it's not like it's a big deal." Goku shrugged, because yeah, he knew it was a little odd, and he'd had this conversation before.

"Dude, how many people build their own toasters?"

"Dunno, how many?"

"It was a rhetorical question, dimwit."

"Screw you!"

"What were you doing that for, anyway?"

"'s fun, and I needed a toaster."

"Why didn't you buy one, like a normal person?"

Goku felt his cheeks grow warm. "I don't exactly have a whole lot of spare cash. I have rent and fees, and everything to pay. It's way cheaper, 'specially when I get the broken toasters free. People don't realise it's one part that broke." He surveyed the mess Gojyo made of his kitchen. The plastic body of toaster number one was cracked; Gojyo had flung it into the wall by accident, when he flailed after touching the coil.

"Hey, dude, I'm sorry." Gojyo scratched the back of his head. "I'll buy you a normal toaster, okay?"

"'s no big deal, I said." Goku picked up the still hot coil with a pair of chopsticks. "I was planning on chucking out the plastic, anyway. I prefer th' other one. How's your hand?"

"Huh?" Gojyo gave him a look then he held his hand up to inspect his fingertips. "I'll live. It just surprised me."

"Wuss."

"Take that back!"

Goku dropped the coil into a pot of water. Yeah, it shouldn't have gotten so hot. Likely it was his fault, for leaving the whole mess plugged in, but he needed to check if the parts were of any use.

"So, you build a lot of stuff?" Gojyo asked, helping himself to the beer he'd deposit in Goku's fridge every Saturday. He popped the can open and took a long swig.

"Yeah, it's not that hard."

"What else have you built?"

"My PC. Well, much as I could, I'm not that good with computers."

"I have been wondering about that. It looks like Darth Vader and sounds about the same. Does it work?"

"Dude, it kicks arse!" Goku beamed, fetching a coke for himself. "I got a bunch of the parts cheap and a friend at uni helped me with the configuration. It's awesome."

"That load of junk? Seriously? It looks like the first pop-up will blow the screen clean off."

"So it needs a new screen. But it's holding together, and it runs Counter Strike on full detail without a hitch."

"Dude," Gojyo said, the tone of his voice betraying how impressed he was, and Goku beamed once again.

"Hey, if it goes beep, I can fix it," he boasted. "Unless it has programming that's more complicated than on and off."

"How's the computer working, then?"

"I'm only involved up to th' on/off switch. The rest is black magic."

"Right." Gojyo took a sip of his beer. "Computers are hard to get."

"Tell me about it."

"Hey, can you fix a typewriter?" Gojyo asked suddenly, setting the beer aside.

Goku stared at the toaster. He had seen a typewriter, of course, he had studied the schematics – simple device that was – but he'd never had a go at one. On the other hand, they weren't that complicated. "I dunno, I don't think I've ever even touched one. What's wrong with it?"

"Not a damn clue. It won't go clink, 's about all I can tell."

"I could have a look," Goku said cautiously, because Gojyo had a tendency to veer into the left field and surprise him with a joke that would, after a few minutes, be funny to him too. But when it happened only Gojyo laughed.

"Great! I broke Hakkai's a while ago. I don't think he'd forgive me if he knew."

"He doesn't know?"

"Well, he doesn't type very often, now does he?"

"I dunno, I'd expect just about everything from him," Goku said. He thought of the memo he'd received a few weeks back, detailing the bank account number and amount of money due each month. It'd been printed, but the paper had a golden lining and a subtle pattern. The recipe for the happy cake, on the other hand, had been hand written on cotton paper, with what Goku suspected was a fountain pen. Awful lot of trouble to say "mix four eggs with four cups of flour, two cups of sugar, melted margarine and baking powder. Pour into a baking form, drop a pound of fruit; bake until golden." On the bright side, it gave Goku something to frame and hang on the kitchen wall. It was amazing how much more of home the kitchen became, with such a tiny gesture.

X.

Reminiscing was a fond pastime for neither Hakkai nor Sanzo, but from time to time both would mention they missed the simplicity of the nineteenth century. Then one would recall the dirt, the uncomfortable suits and failings of indoor plumbing, and they'd admit the twenty-first was the century to live in. Gojyo lacked their perspective, but he loved the twenty-first century, in all its glory.

Still, he could appreciate the value of mementos, which was why the kid was a godsend. The typewriter had been killing Gojyo for the past month, ever since he'd dropped a picture frame on it. Something had crunched inside and the T and G and also H had stopped working. It was the only thing Hakkai had brought with him into his afterlife, the only thing from his human life he'd speak of without the creature of the night persona taking over. The typewriter belonged to just Hakkai; a clerk or some such, who had spent his days bent over the contraption.

"Crap, how old is this thing?" Goku asked, peering at the machine, his eyes wide. "It looks friggin' ancient."

"It is old, Remington, or something," Gojyo told him. "It's from the 1880s." It was a touch younger than Hakkai, but Goku didn't need to know that.

"Shit." Goku, despite the obvious impulse to drop it, made sure it had full support on the table before taking a step back, holding up his hands. "'s a museum type of thing, I dunno if it's a good idea."

"It's a family heirloom," Gojyo said. "Hakkai cleans it once a year, and I think the date is coming up. He'll kill me if it doesn't work." Well, not kill per se. More like look wistful and sad and drift from room to room, with unseeing eyes focused on some distant point in the past. Gojyo'd already experienced a moping Hakkai once and he had no desire for a repeat performance.

"It looks like something in it broke," Goku said, poking at the H key. "Broke and is blocking the keys."

"Shit fuck crap. Hakkai will maim me."

"I dunno, it kinda looks plastic to me."

"Plastic?"

"Ya have tweezers? And a screwdriver, come to think of it."

"Tweezers? What the fuck would I do with tweezers?"

"I dunno, fish out plastic from your boyfriend's antique heirloom?"

"Point taken." Gojyo looked at his feet. "I'll check in the medicine cabinet." It turned out they had tweezers. Huh. They also had ibuprofen and aspirin that had expired in 1912, judging by the bottle. He closed the cabinet, fearing the questions, but Goku was still bent over the typewriter, pressing the keys in succession.

"The paper would hafta be face down," Goku said, his finger flying from G, to O then slipping to K and up again to reach U. "God, typing was so awkward before the computers."

"Tell me about it." Gojyo had a college degree – Hakkai had insisted – and he'd shorthanded his way through it. He'd taken the invention of the personal computer as a personal insult, for its lateness.

"Thank god we were born after the Internet. How the hell did people learn anything before then?" Goku laughed, tipping the heavy machine onto its side and unscrewing the first of many screws.

"It was hell. Mostly it involved reading and waiting and waiting some more," Gojyo's mouth said, as usual, with a head start on the brain.

"It's kinda hard to imagine, what with Wikipedia being a couple clicks away," Goku said, setting the fourth screw aside.

"Yeah," Gojyo said. Hard to friggin' imagine, he thought. Fucking Internet, not being invented when Gojyo needed it most.

Goku set aside the screwdriver and detached the base from the keys. Something clattered on the table and Gojyo closed his eyes in horror. They were dead, Goku ahead of schedule, and Gojyo painfully, then he was dead again, when Sanzo got back and found out that Goku was dead ahead of schedule. "Nothing is broken," Goku said. "A pen was jammed in here, and musta broke it when the keys were pressed."

"That's it?"

"I think so, yeah." The pen was coming back out now, small and bigger pieces. Goku used the tweezers to extract the final bits, stuck between the metal parts.

"Dude. I was dying because of that machine!" Gojyo exclaimed, his voice high with relief.

"You should have taken it to the museum or some such."

"You fixed it just fine."

"Removing a pen don't count as fixing it."

"Helluva lot more than I did," Gojyo said, smelling, to his surprise, the wave of blood rushing to Goku's face. Bloody ridiculous it was, how easy this kid blushed.

"'s no big deal," he said, turning back to fit the base back onto the typewriter.

Gojyo was lost for words, only partly because the heady smell of Goku's blood intensified with embarrassment. "No, but it's a huge favour I owe you now," he managed in the end.

XI.

Colombia was everything it said in the brochure. By the time Sanzo's plane landed, the Casa Medina's suite had been scrubbed in preparation for his arrival and fitted with heavier curtains. The owner of the hotel was a vampire himself, though it amused him to be called a chupacabra, as he preferred to manage his hunger by ingesting animal blood. He was more than happy to welcome his kind, provided they behaved, whatever their dietary habits. Plus, he owed Sanzo from way back.

"What brings you to our humble city?" he asked, holding the limo door open. Sanzo gratefully dove into the shadows the tinted windows offered. The five minutes of the boiling sun – fuck Hakkai, for getting the weather report wrong – turned his skin red, despite his best efforts.

"Business," Sanzo said. "I need to eat something."

"And shop too, I presume?" Kougaji raised a brow at the jeans and weather inappropriate shirt Sanzo still wore, and lack of luggage.

"Later."

"I dare not ask what got you so hungry."

"Good." Sanzo had eaten on the way to the airport – he'd left the hobo alive, which was sloppy, but the wound at his wrist would be explainable by the shards of glass in the alley and the alcoholic stupor. The blood had been surprisingly rich, despite being tinged with cheap liquor, but it had done nothing to quell Sanzo's thirst. He ached to go back, he still wanted to lay Goku down on the bed and feed on him until there was not a drop left, until his corpse was as dry as the desert dust.

"Sanzo?"

"What?"

"You're not in trouble, are you?" Kougaji asked. Sanzo followed his gaze to his pale hands, shaking against his jean-clad thighs.

"I'm in so much fucking trouble, I don't know where to start," he ground out.

"Beginning?" Kougaji supplied, now worried. "If it's shelter you need, I have a hacienda deep in the country, barely anyone knows it exists. Few humans around, but the hunting ground is vast and the jungle is abundant in all kinds of creatures."

Sanzo smirked. "What, you ate the contractors?"

"Yes."

"Seriously?"

"I am vegetarian for convenience's sake, not because I need to be."

"I thought Yaone kept you on a tighter leash."

"Yaone is a wise woman. She understands the necessities of life. Back to your problem, however?"

Sanzo looked out the window. "There's a kid, moved into the flat above Hakkai. He's- I was this close to ripping him open where he stood. I can't get that out of my head, even now."

"You didn't, though?"

"Only because Hakkai was there the whole time."

"Huh."

"Huh? That's all you have to say? I'm a hundred and sixty-five years old, I ought to be able to go months without feeding and still be able to hold a newborn without biting into it."

"Theoretically, yes."

"Theoretically?"

"How is it that I get to tell you this?" Kougaji asked, rubbing at his forehead. "Look, what you experience is not uncommon. We crave the blood of children, it's only natural."

"Fuck you and your explanations. I know all that."

"How old is that kid, anyway?"

"How the hell should I know? Nineteen, perhaps twenty."

This earned Sanzo a raised brow and a smirk. "Nineteen?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You have anything to say, say it. Don't waste my goddamned time."

"Maybe you should sleep with him. See if that helps."

Sanzo stared at him in disbelief. "What, did you have a conference with Gojyo while I was on the plane? The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It continues to amaze me, how deep a denial a mind can sustain."

"I shall hurt you," Sanzo promised. Outside the car the crowds parted like the waves of the Red Sea. Ah, the magic of a limo with tinted windows. No one wanted to be in its path in this part of the world.

"Better not. Yaone wouldn't like it."

"Start making sense then."

Kougaji sighed. "Sexual attraction, ahoy? The hormones tend to add to the flavour. Do I need to paint you a picture?"

"He smelled good even before he saw me. Besides, what am I, a Harlequin heroine? This sort of thing doesn't happen in real life."

"Case in point being you."

"Case in point being that- boy," Sanzo spit out the word in derision, "Hakkai says he'd be more than happy to bleed him dry. Gojyo too."

"I'm guessing this is now out of question."

"What do you think?" Hakkai was a sick masochist, for doing what he did day to day. Sanzo understood, on one level, why, and appreciated that iron conviction of his, but sometimes, like when it stood between Sanzo and an epic meal, it grated.

"I think your life must suck," Kougaji said, a trace of pity in his voice.

"Fuck you." Sanzo folded his arms. "How does it work?"

"Well, if a man and a woman – or a man or a man, in your case – want each other very much…" Kougaji said, grinning.

"Hilarious."

"Sorry, can't help you. But I happen to know a couple of convicts have broken out of jail last week."

"That is good news," Sanzo said, sitting up straight. A hunt would take his mind off things. If he was lucky, the convicts would be young enough to satisfy the hunger which roared in his gut. He was ravenous, a sensation he hadn't experienced in over a century. "Do you have photos?"

"Better still," Kougaji said, flashing his fangs. "I have their shirts."

XII.

Most of the humans Hakkai knew swore he had a sixth sense. He'd always know who was where and usually what was it that they wanted. They didn't realise it was the superior sense of smell he got as a result of his transformation; he could scent minute changes in human sweat, accounting for the emotional state, as well as pick apart the smells that clung to the skin and clothes throughout the day. It wasn't a unique talent – Sanzo had no problem tracking a person from the bar they'd visited the week before to a gas station on the other side of the city. It was no hardship, not when he was able to tell fear from anxiety by scent alone. With Gojyo it was easiest, even if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. Werewolf physiology was distinctive. The only reason Gojyo wasn't yet hunted by the government as a test subject was that humans didn't know what it was they smelled, and chalked it up to an intense cologne. To Hakkai, Gojyo was an open book, and vice versa, despite the fact that vampires were essentially odourless, except to other creatures with vastly superior olfactory senses.

This was why, when Hakkai returned home, he immediately knew something was wrong. Gojyo'd had Goku over. "Really, Gojyo."

"What?"

"I'm not trying to discourage you making friends with the boy, but must you invite him here?"

"Sorry?"

"I'm not Jesus," Hakkai told him, "and he's a wicked temptation."

"I think I would have noticed if you were, as there would be a whole lot more wine around, and he's not here now."

"What were you doing?" Hakkai asked, because Gojyo had around him the air of worry and seemed to be bracing himself for a conversation he'd much rather avoid.

"Ah. Um. Well."

Hakkai folded his arms and waited. Gojyo had had this on his chest for a while now, and today was the day he'd share. Hakkai could tell.

"I broke your typewriter," Gojyo said, and immediately continued, "but it turns out it wasn't really broken, see? I kinda accidentally dropped a picture frame on it, and something crunched, and I meant to tell you, but then I found out Goku is capable of fixing stuff, so I let him have a look, and it turns out it was just a pen, stuck inside. It's all good now."

"I see," Hakkai said, and went into the kitchen.

"I know you're mad," Gojyo said, following, "I'm very sorry. It was an accident."

"I know."

"Fuck, I hate that. Can you just slug me and be done with it?"

"I'm not mad," Hakkai said. To his own surprise he realised he wasn't. The machine was precious to him, for its bitter reminder of what he'd once been and the road he'd travelled, but it was hardly his most precious possession. "It is not a holy relic," he said out loud, turning to Gojyo. "And you say it is not broken."

"Not that Goku could tell, anyway. He seemed to know what he was doing."

"Interesting choice, letting Goku's scent spilled all over my reminder of my past humanity. You are trying to get the boy killed, are you not?"

"What?"

"Do I have to go over this again? I'm a vampire, Gojyo," Hakkai let his fangs slide out, in all their lethal glory. "My food calls to me, and it is not just for sustenance."

"Fuck, I didn't think of that."

"I imagine not. Well, don't worry," Hakkai repeated and smiled. Temptations could be avoided, failing that, they could be resisted. He'd had practice. Hakkai tangled his hands in Gojyo's dark hair and pulled him close. "I trust you didn't tell him too much," he said when Gojyo's mouth touched the curve of his jaw.

"Said it's a family heirloom."

"Good choice. Dinner?"

"Maybe later."


	4. Chapter 4

XIII.

Night in the jungle was one of the things that defined terror. Not the word itself, because the word was just a poor representation of the emotion it signified. The night of the equatorial jungles was darkness, the likes of which humankind had learned to fear the moment they took the first step away from the trees. It was noise, slithering through the dark with lethal intent, present on every side. It was poison, waiting on every leaf, and every blade of grass. It was fear itself, the primordial impulse to run, as fast as the feeble muscles would carry the buzzing knot of panic that a person's head had become.

Sanzo perched on a tree branch, fifteen feet off the ground. He didn't move a muscle. His breath was measured and slow, so that it disturbed the night air no more than a moth flapping its wings. His heart swelled with blood every five seconds, the legato beat soundless in the thickets of the tropical forest. He dozed, high on his perch, waiting. His quarry was near.

The jungle was thick and it was dangerous, but Sanzo was far deadlier than anything hiding within. He knew this and the jungle knew this. His prey had no chance; from the moment Kougaji had given him the taste of his scent, the man was doomed. He would die tonight, and Sanzo had made sure he knew it before the chase began in earnest. It was cruel, perhaps, but Sanzo wasn't build for caring. The young man had been a killer, he committed many murders for a drug lord, but whether this was a just end for him, Sanzo didn't care. Kougaiji had said he was guilty of the crimes he'd been accused off, and that was enough to satisfy Hakkai's code of conduct. What Sanzo cared about was that the man was young, almost as young as Goku, and that the scent tasted of salt and rusty red, of anger and fear of others, but there was, too, the boundless joy of the power of youth and lusts satisfied soon as they arose. His blood would be sweeter than anything Sanzo'd had in a long while.

There was the hint of sound and Sanzo snapped out of his doze, alert. The ground thundered under the man's feet, and Sanzo smirked. His quarry was running through the jungle, panicking in the combined darkness of the new moon and the thick wildlife. His torch's light flashed through the darkness, illuminating just enough of the jungle's night to imply the hint of danger, which was nevertheless so palpable it sent adrenaline bursting throughout his body. Sanzo could smell it from where he sat. The scarce light reflected in the eyes of the countless night-dwelling species, turning them into tiny moons, staring back from the abyss. Any moment now the man would reach his limit and start screaming. He'd drop to the jungle floor, into the death that waited beneath the soil and scream his lungs out. This was what Sanzo was waiting for. Despite the inherent cruelty of his condition, he found that things were so much more satisfying when death had already arrived at the scene and he was only collecting what had been surrendered.

"i_Jesucristo/i_," the man whispered, stopping beneath Sanzo's tree, and crossed himself. "i_Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo/i_." The torch shook in his fingers.

Sanzo stood up and waited until he turned, then took a step forward and landed on the ground. His feet made no sound as he walked towards the man. He stopped two feet from the trembling body, inhaling the stench of sweat and adrenaline and intoxicating blood. It had been long indeed, since he'd had a meal this fresh.

The man turned, the torch's beam with him, the light hitting the fabric of Sanzo's shirt. The pale material exploded with brightness in the eternal night of the jungle, and the man froze. "i_Madre de Dios/i_," he whispered, as the torch fell from his fingers.

"i_Ruega por nosotros pecadores/i_," Sanzo said, like the criminal, in a whisper. "i_Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amen_./i"

The man didn't see him move. His fear had paralyzed him so much, his numbed mind could only fight to maintain his breathing. It wasn't a necessity any longer – Sanzo sank his teeth deep into the man's throat, careless about the damage he was causing. Here in the jungle no one would care if the corpse had been found with teeth marks all over his throat, because it would never be found with the flesh wound still gaping. Sanzo's fangs tore into the tissue, exposing the pulsing arteries beneath the flesh. He opened his mouth to receive the fresh red blood spurting from the wound and he drank deep, and long; he drank until the man croaked and twitched and the last breath escaped his mouth.

Sanzo let go of the corpse, closing his eyes as he licked at the corners of his mouth, not to let a drop be wasted. So rarely he got to taste blood so rich and sweet. He could feel the heat of it spread throughout his limbs; soon enough it would filter into his bloodstream and bring flush to his skin, the sensation was not unlike arousal.

Without opening his eyes he bent to extinguish the light. There were hundreds of animals hidden in the foliage, drawn by the scent of spilled blood. They inched closer when the torch's light died, though still kept their distance. The subtle scent of a vampire's body, too colourless to belong to a living creature, too zesty to belong to a stone, was enough to keep them at a distance.

Sanzo left the corpse on the forest floor. Before he was gone out of sight, the cadaver was already obscured by a mass of fur and tiny teeth. The scavengers would have it gone before the morning light made its tentative attempts at penetrating the depths pf the jungle. Even if someone was desperate enough to find out the man's fate, the best they could hope for was a few bones, strewn over the grounds.

And yet, even in the satisfaction, something was missing. Sanzo paused before a tree, felled many years ago, now covered with an entomologist's wet dream: hundreds of beetles of which no more than two were alike. He had no desire to wade through insects. He leapt into the air, grasping the branch overhead and vaulted into the canopies. He continued the journey and musings from where he could occasionally glimpse the sky.

Something was missing. The Colombian felon tasted good; he'd been young, he'd smelled sweet enough and, before the fear laced his blood with adrenaline, sharp like the oriental spices. Feeding on him was satisfying enough, should have been satisfying enough. And yet, even now, Sanzo couldn't forget the boy, waiting back home. Away from the immediate temptation, it was no easier to pinpoint the allure, beyond the obvious, his youth and good health. There must have been something more to him, a foreign species not previously encountered, something beyond Gojyo's explanation. Sanzo had no desire for the attraction and lust, though yes, there was some appeal in the thought of stripping Goku bare, so that his golden fragrance wafted through the air uninhibited by clothed and detergents. Even more tempting was the thought of opening him up and pressing against him, so that the redness of blood burst out of his veins and stained the sheets, his skin, Sanzo's skin…

"Fuck," Sanzo told the colony of butterflies on the trunk of the tree. "He's even ruined the best meal I had in years." Even with the tang of the felon's (Jaime? Javier?) blood on his tongue, Sanzo felt the spectral presence of Goku's scent. It haunted his every waking thought, never mind the few hours of sleep he required to function. Sanzo stared at the butterflies: god's decoupage on the rough tree bark. The boy would drive him insane. Even when his stomach was swollen with blood the hunger for Goku persisted. It looked like Hakkai would be forced to take measures, after all.

Sanzo looked up and closed his eyes. There it was, the answer he sought: if he was going to be driven to his death by the boy, he might as well let the real thing do the job, not a faded memory.

XIV.

"He won't stay away long," Gojyo said, staring at the ceiling. Sanzo had phoned, fulfilling the promise Hakkai extracted from him under pains of following and making him hurt. He'd been buzzed, having drunk more than his fill, and still Gojyo heard the hint of anger and disbelief that accompanied denial.

"To what do you owe this insight?"

"He's like you. He's not gonna let go of the thing that fascinates him. He'll be back before he sorts his head properly, and we'll have to break several of his bones for hurting Goku."

"You seem to assume he will return out of control."

"Nah, he'll return thinking he's in control."

"Indeed."

"You don't believe me?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You have that look that implies you have your own opinion."

"Sanzo is quite old, even by your standards. He is experienced."

"Sanzo is a dickhead."

"I certainly hope this is an insight you've never shared with him."

"Often and as loud as possible."

Hakkai sighed and Gojyo had to grin. This friendship that he and Sanzo shared, it tended to be underestimated even by Hakkai. Just because they disagreed on every other subject, and the arguments got personal sooner rather than later, it didn't mean there wasn't the essential ounce of caring there, the kind that sends a guy into the fiery pits for the other. Yeah, it would be accompanied by bitching, on both sides, but hell, beggars can't be choosers, and most of the supernatural posse comprised dicks and arseholes.

"What shall we do?" Hakkai asked, turning towards Gojyo's warmth. His fingers found the warm nook right where Gojyo's side met the sheets, and wriggled, raising a laugh.

Gojyo hesitated before answering. "Logically," he started, knowing full well that the word in his mouth was amusing, at best, "we should kill Goku."

Hakkai made a sound.

"Yeah, I know." He liked the kid. He was honest, like few people in the world were honest, that is to say his words never belied the feelings betrayed by his scent. He was fun, he had a cool gaming platform, and no matter how old Gojyo got, shooting mutants in the head never did. "I don't wanna do it," he said. "I like him."

"He is very hard not to like."

"Says the man who snubs him on every occasion."

"I rather suspect he'd prefer to be snubbed than bled dry."

"Point taken."

"When Sanzo comes back," Hakkai said, "he will have to be supervised."

"Aww, fuck. You mean chaperoning?"

"Given the alternative you postulated…"

"You know, fuck you and your use of 'postulated' in bed."

"Fuck you and your irreverence for ornate expressions," Hakkai said, wearing his best polite smile.

Gojyo laughed. "You're one of a kind," he said.

"I rather hope so."

"Still, chaperoning? You know what Sanzo really wants, denial aside, is to screw the kid." Which yeah, Gojyo would pay to see, because the kid smelled good when he shopped, he smelled better when he was being helpful, and he'd smell divine when he fucked. This was a fact of life. The only trouble with this was that Gojyo was no voyeur.

"It wouldn't be wise."

"Damn straight it wouldn't."

Didn't change the fact that it was gonna happen.

XV.

Hakkai considered himself to be reasonable. He had to be, with the beastly hungers raking his insides daily. He needed an anchor to hold himself steady, or he'd mutilate whoever crossed his path without a second thought. He didn't care to go there again, which is how he'd come up with the three rules:

Never kill whom you want to kill, for want makes you judgement faulty.

Never kill one whose disappearance would cause more pain than it prevents.

Never break the rules.

Sanzo, bless his dark, twisted heart, took them as his own, though he had managed just fine before. He was grateful for them, too, when the computer age arrived. Suddenly everyone had a record, the rate of mysterious disappearances diminished, and Hakkai's rules proved to be a saving grace.

Vampires could never pass as humans in the long run, not with the rate their bodies aged, to speak nothing of the diet which sustained them. The people of the twentieth century might rationalise, but the myth was ingrained in their brains, beyond the science. When the bodies started washing up on the riverbanks with bite marks on their necks, bite marks with pattern reminiscent of a human mandible, the primal need to have the mystery explained by any means available would take over. The myths would be revisited and conclusions would be drawn.

To avoid eventual exposure, the vampires adapted. They fed on criminals and sometimes animals, they made sure the corpses were too mangled to suggest an anthropoid suspect, or that the victims weren't found at all. The rules allowed them to live in one area for a long time, without drawing attention to the environment, giving them a semblance of peace, as long as they moved every few decades. People on the whole weren't observant, the differentiation – in their case the lack thereof – taking place underneath their very noses escaped their notice, when it didn't exceed a limit of plausibility. As long as they kept to the rules and to their silence, it worked.

Goku, therefore, was a problem. Gojyo liked the boy, Hakkai could tell. For every thing that he and Gojyo had in common, there was one thing that separated them, and so Hakkai was glad Gojyo had someone with whom he could play games and have a beer in a bar. But it also meant that either Goku would find out – for all his simplicity, he was bright – sooner or later, or they moved and moved far, leaving him behind.

Then there was the delectability of Goku's blood to consider. Hakkai shuddered when he anticipated the taste. Vampires were few in the world, but the people whose blood was as potent as Goku's were fewer still. Even if Sanzo's reaction was extreme, even if this was an infatuation on his part that had him lose control, the fact remained that Hakkai also heard the call, and it had been second strongest on his personal record. It was only a matter of time before a nomadic vampire would catch Goku's scent and, judging by Sanzo's initial reaction, that would be the end of this moment in time. Goku would be killed and Sanzo would in turn slaughter the offender, uncaring for how public it would be, because Hakkai was not so naïve not to factor the jealousy and possessiveness that came with infatuation into the mix.

"There is no way out of this," he told Gojyo, late into the night.

"Huh?"

"This Goku situation. If we don't kill him, someone else will, and Sanzo won't accept that with good grace."

"Oh fuck," Gojyo said. "It's gonna be a massacre."

"I'm more concerned for the potential publicity."

"You think Sanzo would hunt down another vampire in public?"

"I'm concerned that Sanzo might not be wholly rational, if Goku was killed at this point, let alone when he grows attached."

"That would be a show," Gojyo mused, though his tone was serious.

XVI.

The Christmas decorations were lighting up every corner. Goku sighed and watched the puff of breath dissipate in the air. He missed the snow. Christmas without it just wasn't the same. There was still time to go before the first star and the assorted madness, but snow was a vain hope. Goku sipped his eggnog gingerbread coffee, an overpriced mix of Christmas cheer, clearly aimed at anyone but students, and sighed again, this time in bliss. Overpriced commercialism, but hot damn, this must have been the best cup of coffee ever.

He was sitting on a bench in the middle of the high street, watching the procession of shoppers make their way from one store to another. It was both depressing – student life was hell, no money and no one to shop for – and uplifting. There was the cheer, though artificial and bland, the essence of it permeated the air, and that made Goku happy. His boss had given him the day off, as apparently the business was slow (filthy lie, around Christmas people had crashed their cars into everything twice as often), which was just an excuse for him to do the shopping for his extensive family. Which left Goku alone on High Street, overpriced cup of the drink of gods in hand, watching Christmas unfold.

A faint mist overhead, one that could only be breath, caught his attention, and he tilted his head upwards. It was Sanzo, leaning over the bench's backrest, his blond hair haloed by the pale sunlight.

"Um. Hi?" Goku said, perturbed by the focus in Sanzo's dark eyes. "Haven't seen you for a while."

"I've been away."

Wow, a newsflash. "Wouldja maybe sit down? My neck hurts."

"I want a coffee," Sanzo said, not moving.

"Okay, but this one's mine." Goku shook the paper cup. "And I'm almost finished."

"The shop is right there."

"Yeah," Goku said, the idea that he was being asked to follow dawning. "But I kinda just spent th' last of my money on this."

Sanzo gave him a look that either meant he was being a complete moron, or endearing. Possibly that his idiocy was endearing; with Sanzo it was hard to tell. "I'm buying," he clarified.

Goku looked at his almost finished coffee, then at the merry girl who'd managed the counter not ten yards away, and stood up. A free coffee was nothing to scoff at, but a free coffee from a guy this hot? He'd be a moron to refuse.

"Thanks," he said to the barista when she handed him his hot chocolate with cinnamon flavouring. "And thanks," he said turning to Sanzo, "Next one is on me, soon as I've funding again." Sanzo made a noise that was half a snort half a cough.

Many people had the same idea as them, which meant the coffee shop was packed, but Sanzo managed to secure a table in the back. Goku followed him across the room, mug in hand.

"So, where have you been?" he asked when he finished the lengthy process of untwisting his scarf and taking off his jacket. When he looked back up Sanzo was sitting with his back against the wall, as though he was trying to melt into it. "You okay? I swear 'm not diseased or anything." In between trying to not look hurt or anxious, Goku tried not to make it seem as though he wasn't sniffing the air, but it was hard to do something unnoticed when Sanzo was staring at him like he was a Bugatti Veyron parked next to a dozen used Beetles. There was the possibility he got the metaphor backwards, but it would be a whole lot harder to rationalise, with the way Sanzo's eyes focused on him and him alone, like he was the only person in the room. It made his cheeks flame.

"Yeah. I know," Sanzo said and scooted forward a couple inches. "Colombia."

"What?"

"I've been to Colombia."

"What the hell where you doing in Columbia?" Goku asked. "Ain't it cold there this time of the year?"

Sanzo smirked. "Wrong America. Colombia is next to Brazil."

"Oh." As if he wasn't red enough.

"I was visiting a friend," Sanzo said. "Plus, I had business to attend to."

"In South America?" Wow, this was getting more and more crazy by the minute. Not only was Sanzo hotter than a very hot thing, he was also loaded enough to cross the ocean on a whim. "Wow. I mean, just like that?"

"It happens."

"I'd have thought you were a student or something, I mean, you can't be that much older than me."

A wry smile twisted Sanzo's mouth. "Yeah, you'd think so."

"Well, you can't! I'm almost twenty."

"I don't act my age," Sanzo admitted.

"So, you're not studying?"

"No, I have a degree already."

"Really? My record is a horrible mess, but I'm almost halfway done."

The first impression, that Sunday right after moving in, totally didn't do Sanzo justice. He wasn't so bad. Goku concluded he must have been under the weather that day, to have been that snippy and rude. Sure, his comments might have lacked a lot of things, but bite wasn't one of them, but they were wry and sharp. Goku grinned. This, here and now, this was nice.


	5. Chapter 5

XVII.

Sanzo had almost forgotten what it was like to chat with a human being. He had never been social, and becoming a vampire added another antisocial facet to his solitary habits. He was justified in his preference: conversation was hard when one had to mind his tongue about knowing what the world looked like before the internal combustion engine. That, and what was the point of chitchat, when the person he talked with, or about, would die in a few decades? Much had been written on the subject of gossip and Sanzo found that, given his perspective, everything was gossip. Ministers, elections, wars and even Queens. With that philosophy, years went by without him exchanging more than a few words with someone who wasn't Hakkai or Gojyo.

Now, sitting in the coffee shop with Goku, Sanzo discovered that not only was the chattering not annoying, as he'd surmised, but that he was eager to listen. He sat there and let Goku continue talking, about his studies, about the movies he liked, about bad coffee and cheap food. All the little things Sanzo had no care for. There was an urgency to his words that Sanzo had stopped feeling when it had become apparent growing old was not an issue for him any more. This was one of the big surprises of immortality, or something much like it – the notion of time being limited was hardwired into every cell of the body, and that notion influenced everything, from hormonal response to intellectual pursuits. For the vampires the world was naught but a momentary distraction; there was enough of world and time to do anything they pleased, whenever they pleased. Sanzo spoke Spanish, for instance, because 1928 got a bit dull, so he visited Colombia. Goku chattered a mile a minute, like every second mattered, and sipped the chocolate like he would never taste anything ever again. It was fascinating to watch.

There had been problems with being this close, of course. The moment when Goku'd taken off his winter clothes, Sanzo had panicked. "I can't do it," he'd thought, slamming his back against the wall, aware that there was nothing between him and the fragrant blood, because a dozen people and flesh was not an obstacle. He sat there as Goku's thick jacket had opened, releasing a cloud of warm, golden mist of his scent into Sanzo's face and Sanzo felt his fangs slide out of his jaw to press against his tongue, sharp, insistent, hungry. He'd resisted. He wasn't sure how he managed without breaking a bone or two, but three minutes later he was still sitting in his seat, breathing in Goku's scent and listening to him talk.

"So whatcha been studying?"

"You mean, what's my degree?"

"Yeah."

"Do learn to speak correctly."

"Oh, shut up," Goku said, and grinned.

"Computer science," Sanzo said. This was his most recent Master's, though considering the progress of the digital world it was woefully inadequate by now. He'd been awarded the diploma in 1995, and though he employed the skills from time to time (the occasional identity theft these days required some computer whizzery), by 2005 he'd found himself so confused he considered going back to school to get another diploma in the field. He hadn't got around to it as of yet.

"Really? That is so cool. I suck at the computer things. I mean, I get the idea, it's not like half of it ain't obvious, but it's still feelin' off, ya know? I prefer to work on stuff that I can chuck outta the window if it ain't coming out right."

"So you're saying I better avoid walking underneath your windows?"

"Well, no, I don't do that no more." Goku's cheeks flushed and Sanzo had to bite on his tongue to keep himself from licking his lips. "I learned."

"Gojyo said you built a computer."

"He said that?" Goku asked his already large eyes going even wider.

The fact was, Gojyo had raved about it. Sanzo wondered how much they'd have to pay for the phone call to Colombia just because Gojyo felt the need to share that detail and a dozen others. "He was impressed."

"Yeah, well, I can't take all the credit. I have a friend, she's a computer science major, she helped me to plan it out, and with the programming too."

Sanzo wondered if the death of a potential love interest qualified as causing less trouble than leaving her alive. "Fantastic," he muttered, hiding the growl in his double espresso.

"So what is it that you do?" Goku asked, leaning forward. Sanzo gave his parted mouth a look and then, like the square peg finding the square hole at last, it clicked. Goku liked him. Goku found him sexually attractive, Sanzo knew, but there had been wizened old men, attached at the hip to their armchairs and cats, who'd found Sanzo sexually attractive. It happened when one had the face of a Greek god and a body honed by a century of running instead of driving. Goku i_liked/i_ him, though. Goku watched and asked questions, smiled and just liked, like he would like the girl who majored in computer studies and helped him build a computer.

Sanzo felt the little moron deserved a Darwin award.

XVIII.

"I dunno about you," Gojyo said, "But I'm kinda worried." Hakkai, though he said nothing at the time, conceded.

Sanzo had been back for several weeks, making it just over a month since Goku arrived in the city, and every single day Sanzo walked Goku home from work, or university, or the swimming pool, to which Goku had taken a fancy, whether Goku knew it or not. Every time, on the days Sanzo would stop by, Hakkai could smell the boy on Sanzo's clothes and, though the concentration was minute, indicating only that they were in close proximity, without direct contact, Hakkai worried. Every night he waited for Goku to return home and breathed easier when he did, unharmed.

Goku's infatuation with the nearby swimming pool helped matters. The development was met with wholehearted support of the supernatural lobby, as Hakkai commented in good humour, because it meant Goku returned home with chlorine in his hair, on his clothes and his skin, which did wonders for dampening the mouth-watering scent of his flesh. It was that much easier to be around the irresistible smell with something as pungent as chlorine guising it. As far as being around Goku was concerned, this was no longer a matter of choice – even Hakkai, he of the supreme aloofness and distance, had declared a fondness. Far as Gojyo was concerned, Goku was the best thing that'd happened around him for a while.

But that wasn't the problem. Hakkai was not the prime authority on dating, but he knew intimacy when he saw it. Goku was happy to have Sanzo close enough to touch, which Sanzo didn't, on account of being, in Gojyo's terms, a frigid bitch, but the intent was there. Even Sanzo was displaying signs of arousal, beyond the hunger. The two of them haven't gotten too far – obviously, Hakkai's analytical side interjected, as evidenced by the fact Goku's throat remained whole – but human physiology was taking its course. Goku was excited to see Sanzo, every single time, and Sanzo, well, he was hanging by a thin enough thread.

Personal matters and the impending doom aside, Hakkai found the interactions of their little group a fascinating subject of study. So few books were written regarding vampires' relationships with humans, even less where the relationship had olfactory foundations. Never one to miss an opportunity to do research, Hakkai extended a permanent invitation for dinner on pool nights, allowing for observation with the temptation levels at a minimum. He claimed Goku had only just stopped being a growing boy, and he needed his meals calorie-dense. Goku scratched his head at that and protested that he was fine on his own, really, but Hakkai would have none of it.

"It's no hardship," he said. "Ramen noodles are nowhere near nutritious enough."

"I don't just eat ramen," Goku said. "I cook sometimes."

"And yet the most space in your fridge is taken up by Gojyo's beer."

"That's cuz he comes up all the time and leaves it to cool."

"Is this why you have no vegetables? Because Gojyo hijacks your vegetable space for his beverages? I might have to have words with him," Hakkai said, watching with some amusement as Gojyo cringed and Goku panicked on his behalf.

"No, really! I just don't leave them in the fridge, cause then I forget and they grow feet and you know."

"Your vegetables grow feet."

"This one time, I put them in the drawer, and I forgot, and like a month later there was a jungle. It was carrots, I think. And mushrooms. Mushrooms are the first to run away."

"Indeed."

"So, you won't hurt Gojyo or nuthin'?"

"I shall reconsider," Hakkai promised. "I will be expecting you for dinner tonight, after pool."

"I'm fine," Goku tried to say, but Gojyo interrupted. "For fuck's sake, what kind of a student are you? Turning down free food? Are you mad?"

"Oh screw you, arsehole! Not everyone is a mooch!"

"No, some of us are just morons. Do everyone a favour and accept the goddamned invitation."

"I don't see how me eating all of your food is a favour to anyone."

"Dunno, food turnover?"

"Gojyo is correct," Hakkai said. "It's no trouble to cook for three when I'm already cooking for two."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. You are young – I do believe your spine has yet to finish developing. You need proper nutrients and an apple a week doesn't count."

"My spine? Whazzat has to do with anything?"

"Hakkai is saying you are too young to be neglectful," Gojyo jumped in, lighting a cigarette. "There'd be plenty of time to let yourself go when you're old. Then you can get as bloated and sick as you want, because no one will want you anyway."

"Gee, thanks. Very inspiring," Goku said, rolling his eyes. Gojyo grinned, and Goku threw a cushion at his head.

"I shall be expecting you at six sharp," Hakkai said meanwhile, knowing from experience that if anything constructive was to be established, Gojyo must not be allowed to continue the line of thought. He'd come to like Goku, but the boy inspired the most vindictive witty repartee contests Hakkai had had the misfortune to moderate.

"Okay," Goku said, defeated. Hakkai had to smile. It'd been a while since anything was adorable, puppies and kittens aside, though he never understood their appeal. They tasted good, for animals, but that was about all he could say.

"So, fattening him up, are we?" Gojyo whispered into Hakkai's ear when Goku moved to leave.

"Gojyo."

"What, you've got a better word for what we're doing?" Hakkai had to admit he didn't. "He could use some more meat on his bones, though let me tell you, the hoodies and the cargo pants? Camouflage."

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"So I am an uncivilised boor, and I barge into people's flats without waiting for a 'come in.' It comes from being raised by wolves. Goku is a moron for leaving his door unlocked, anyway."

"Yes, your lack of manners is well-established by now. Please get to the point."

"The point? Ah, right. So anyway, I barged in and he's coming outta the shower, naked, all wet and smelling of that peach shower gel he likes."

"This is one of those stories that will in time culminate with Sanzo ripping out a rib, isn't it?"

"Not if you don't tell him," Gojyo said, grinning. "I'm just saying, kid is not as scrawny as he looks. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Can't say I'm too surprised."

"Still he could do with some fattening."

"Gojyo? If I start laying down gingerbread foundations, shoot me."

"With what?"

"Your sparkling wit, if you must."

"Count on it."

XIX.

"Sanzo, for the umpteenth time, we have a door. Use it."

"I'd have to walk around the block," Sanzo said, stepping down from the windowsill and shaking out of his jacket in the same move.

"This way you have to climb to the second floor, do enlighten me of the difference in effort," Hakkai said, sounding peeved to Gojyo's ears and Gojyo's ears were correct more often than not.

"Seriously? You want me to explain how walking around a building is less trouble than leaping two pitiful storeys?"

"Do not tell me you jump," Hakkai said dropping the spatula. "Please don't."

"It's a back alley. No one in their right mind wanders here. It's empty, all the fucking time."

"I wonder, how is it that we are still a secret, when you find leaping two storeys saves you three minutes?"

Sanzo made a noise and Gojyo grinned. Poor Hakkai. "Hey Sanzo," the werewolf said, raising a hand in greeting. "Lose the shirt."

"What?"

"It's fucking ugly. Get rid of it."

"What the hell does it matter?"

"It's orange, for one. Orange is not your colour. Lose it."

"Go to hell."

"Do as he says," Hakkai called from the kitchen. "We have company tonight."

"What company?"

"Goku. We're fattening him up."

"He doesn't need fattening."

"So true," Gojyo said, remembering all the muscle. Not bulky, not even close, but there, shifting under the skin. All the better to sink his teeth into, Gojyo thought, swallowing excess saliva.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Sanzo growled, halfway out of his ugly orange shirt.

"Dude, chill. I ain't been touching," Gojyo said, surprising even himself with the defensive posture he'd adopted. He couldn't help it – there was something terrible and dark in Sanzo's growl, dark enough to reach a werewolf's core. "You sure you're okay?" Judging by the look of pure venom Sanzo threw his way, Gojyo assumed this was a stupid question. He turned instead to Hakkai's closet, for something less gaudy for Sanzo to wear.

Sanzo went without question, taking the offered shirt and slipping it over his head, but Gojyo couldn't shake the feeling that he should be watching his back and sleeping with one eye open. "Fucking drama queen," he said out loud, and checked the label of the orange shirt. It ought to fit Hakkai and Hakkai could handle the orange. Into the closet it went.

By the time Sanzo stopped bitching (out loud, because for Sanzo to stop bitching would take a miracle not unlike the parting of the Red Sea) it was 5:58 pm and Goku was knocking on the door. As expected, he was out of breath, flush with exercise, and smelling of chlorine. He was hungry, too, as evidenced by the amount of soup he inhaled before Hakkai had the chance to take his plate away. Gojyo sniggered into his spoon, because the look on Goku's face was a priceless mixture of a deer staring down a lorry and a puppy caught in a puddle on a coffee table.

"I'm so sorry," Goku said, flushing from head to toe. "I told you I'm a horrible guest, especially when I'm hungry. I'm just really hungry."

"I said don't worry about it," Hakkai countered with gentle amusement. He had been feeding a werewolf and another vampire for years; one human boy with an appetite for broccoli soup was neither a challenge nor a hardship. If anything, if Goku was to judge by, it gave Hakkai something to be proud of, that he could still prepare a meal a human would enjoy.

Gojyo, for his part, matched the rate of Goku's inhalation of food, though to him it was a little bland. He didn't dare to spice it up to his liking; Goku would notice something was off if he fetched the jalapenos and cayenne pepper and dumped three ounces of each into his food.

Then again, letting Goku know something was off about his new circle of friends by watching them chew on jalapenos would be tons better than the alternative.

XX.

Goku couldn't get over the amount of food Hakkai sent his way via Gojyo, or Sanzo, or just by knocking on his door himself. It was a touch embarrassing, the way he was being babied, but Hakkai waved his protests aside. "I enjoy cooking," he would say, "and Sanzo and myself are such poor eaters."

"You have Gojyo."

"Yes, but his tastes are unorthodox, shall we say. Trust me when I say I don't mind."

Goku shuffled his feet and stared at his toes. "I hate ta be moochin'," he said.

"I can't consider it mooching if I offer, now do I?"

"I can take care of myself."

"I believe you do. Do you have any objections to my cooking?"

"No, not really."

"Splendid," Hakkai concluded, handing him three Tupperwares filled with egg-fried rice, crispy prawns and Sichuan pork. "I don't want to hear anything," Hakkai added. "I know I didn't have to. It's leftovers."

Goku sighed and took the food. Despite what he sometimes said, he was not above mooching and certainly not too proud to use the starving student card to get fed. His income was limited and the bills, despite Hakkai's generosity, were steep. Best he could do was make ends meet. Still, being a charity case sucked, he thought, watching Hakkai go.

"You're going to stand here for long?" Sanzo asked, appearing by way of magic in the empty corridor.

"Don't do that again!" Goku said, jumping. "Jesus, why dontcha just pounce!"

"Is that an invitation?"

"Ain't like the heart attack would be any less."

Sanzo smirked. "You have no idea."

"Jerk. What are ya doing here, anyway?"

"There's the movie you wanted to see."

"You said it was a waste of time," Goku said, stepping back into his apartment. "And I'm beat anyway, I've got a project due right after Christmas."

"It's going to be three hours, at most," Sanzo said, following.

"Can't ya let go for ten friggin' minutes?" Goku opened the fridge and squatted in front of it. Stupid Gojyo, overfilled it with beer, again. Several minutes of creative shifting yielded enough space to fit the containers inside, even if the door would only close if Goku held the one with prawns and snatched his fingers out at the last second. "Stupid jerks," Goku said, meaning every overconfident male dumbass on the planet. If he didn't like them both, he'd so be kicking their arses by now.

"Who are you calling a jerk?" Sanzo asked.

"You, jerk." Goku stood up, covering a yawn with his palm. "Look, I'm tired already, and I hafta get going with the school work." Plus, he was low on funds again, Christmas being just around the corner, and while that'd never stopped Sanzo before, Goku preferred being able to pay his way through a date.

But Sanzo wasn't listening. It happened a lot, that he'd stop listening and start watching Goku talk instead. The first time it'd happened Goku balked. He'd lost his place, shut up, and sat there, until Sanzo'd came out of his stupor. "Look, if ya ain't interested, I don't have ta talk," Goku'd said, a little hurt.

"I was listening," Sanzo'd said.

"Yeah, try and tell me you were too busy staring into my pretty, pretty eyes. I ain't gonna believe you."

"Fine. Look, I am listening," he had said and proved it by repeating most of what Goku'd been saying, with commentary. "It's not boring."

"You suck at complimenting."

"I wasn't," Sanzo had said, and reached out to touch Goku's wrist. "It's true."

Goku had believed him then, which made giving in now much easier. "Fine, whatever," he said. "Movie it is. But I swear, if you bother me during Christmas break, I will hurt you."


	6. Chapter 6

XXI.

Goku caved in, and though it was a small victory, it was a victory, Sanzo felt.

Goku stretched his arms over his head and stood on tiptoes, his spine curving with the yawn. "Huh. A break is actually a neat idea." He scratched his cheek, fingernails scraping the stubble.

"I told you."

"No, you didn't," Goku laughed, "but okay. Wait here, make yourself a tea or something. I need a shower."

Sanzo disagreed. There'd been no showers in his recent past, and although Goku's preferred method of procrastination was jogging or push-ups, he'd indulged in neither recently. He smelled of the detergent from the sheets and fabric softener. There was perspiration, tea, coffee with milk and sugar, apple juice and specks of chocolate, still visible on his lower lip. The combination was disgusting, when imagined, but intoxicating in the flesh. Sanzo took a step forward and pressed Goku against the fridge.

"Jesus, gimme a moment. I haven't showered in two days," Goku started saying, but this was one of the times Sanzo preferred to let the words fly past his head. The scratch of stubble would leave no mark on his cheek, though the way it felt would make Sanzo allow the rash anyway. He kissed Goku's mouth, twisting his hands in the oversized t-shirt, only to have Goku push him away.

"Okay, that has to be gross," he said. "Gimme a moment, I need to brush my teeth and shave and all."

No you don't, Sanzo almost said. You're fine right now. He said nothing, even though the last thing he wanted was to have Goku wash away the first tendrils of arousal seeping from his skin. He let Goku go into the bathroom, watched him run back out, claiming the need for clothes, return and then poke his head one last time, beseeching Sanzo to disregard the mess in the kitchen.

The little fucker was making self-control a Herculean effort.

XXII.

Goku stood under the cool spray fighting the urge to jerk off. Sanzo'd never touched him before, and now a kiss out of the blue. iWay to catch a guy off-guard, dickwad/i, he thought, though the smile didn't leave his face. He scrubbed himself clean, brushed his teeth and went hunting for the last disposable blade he had. There must've been at least one…

There wasn't and trying to make do with an old one always ended the same way.

"Fuck!" A drop of blood swelled on the edge of his jaw. "Shitshitshit." Goku grabbed the toilet paper and wiped the cut. He finished shaving as best he could, without mutilating his face further, and pulled his clothes on. Good thing he wasn't out of aftershave yet, even if it stung like a bitch.

"I'm so getting new razors, tonight," he said walking out of the bathroom, towel in hand. Sanzo didn't turn to look at him, instead he stared at his own hands, tight on the kitchen counter. "Don't mind the mess," Goku said, drying his hair. "I promise it's only a couple days old."

"Stop," Sanzo hissed. The line of his back was tense, like he was holding up a weight too much to bear.

"Sanzo?"

Goku wasn't sure what happened next. The kitchen was tiny, barely more that three paces across, but still it should have been impossible to cross it as fast as Sanzo just did. Goku found himself lifted onto the counter, mouth open against a bruising kiss. He would have laughed – Sanzo seemed so frigid most of the time, it was hilarious to watch him lose control like that – but the laughter wouldn't come when he realised Sanzo wouldn't budge, however hard he pressed against his shoulders. He made a noise in the back of his throat and Sanzo's mouth moved, away from his lips and onto the fresh cut.

Sanzo's skin was so cold, Goku realised, the thought catching him by surprise. How hadn't he noticed before?

He felt the prickle of saliva on his torn skin and then pain, sharp and unexpected, tearing into his neck. "Stop it," he screamed, scrambling for leverage against Sanzo's immoveable body.

He stopped and – though he didn't move an inch – Goku found himself looking Sanzo in the face. Sanzo's pupils were dilated, obscuring the last trace of violet, and his mouth was full of redness. It spilled out between his lips, past the thin pointy row of fangs obscuring his incisors, trailing down his chin. The air smelled of iron and Goku realised that the redness was blood.

"What…?" he managed, staring at Sanzo. Then Sanzo moved forward and pressed his mouth to the centre of pain on Goku's neck, razor-sharp teeth nipping at the skin.

Goku wondered how it looked. He could still talk, so it couldn't have been more than superficial, but there was so much red in Sanzo's mouth, and he felt so weak…

His fingers groped the counter, helpless, aimless, until he felt something clatter. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his hand close around a thin wooden shaft. He closed his eyes as he aimed it in the general direction of Sanzo's face and pushed, with all the strength he could muster. He grit his teeth when something gave and he felt wetness on his palm, confirmed moments later by Sanzo tearing himself from his neck and screaming. Goku's hand went to his throat, groping for the damage, minor, thank God.

"Stay away," he warned Sanzo, his voice shaking, trying not to look at Sanzo's face.

Sanzo either didn't listen, or didn't care, because he came at Goku again. Superspeed must have switched off, or whatever, because Goku had time to grab a heavy pan (thank you, Hakkai!) and swing it into Sanzo's face. Goku wondered how the fuck that was possible, that ten seconds ago Sanzo could cross the kitchen in a fraction of a second and now he staggered like a drunk squirrel, but Goku had no interest in enquiry, not now.

In the depths of his mind he realised the it was still light outside and, if there was truth to the myth about creatures that drank blood out of people's necks, they'd better turn to dust when the sunshine hit them, too. Else it wouldn't be fair. It didn't occur to him until he kicked Sanzo through the open balcony door (thank God, for his obsession with fresh air), that he had been with Sanzo outside, during sunny days no less.

"Fuck," he whimpered, falling to his knees, frying pan in one hand, the other pressed against his bleeding neck. "Fuck!" he sat there for a long moment, feeling the pulse of his blood seeping through his fingers. He was shaking. "I think," he said, when a gust of wind showered him with specks of ice from the balcony's railing, "I need help."

XXIII.

Hakkai was having a very good day. He'd made Chinese food for himself and Gojyo, plus a little extra to share with Goku, he'd delivered – the poor boy was slaving on some school project, if he wasn't looked after, he might well stop eating altogether. That done, he settled on the couch with a book in hand and Gojyo's head on his thigh.

Then he smelled the blood.

He and Gojyo were off the couch before they could blink, just in time to grab Sanzo, who'd half-fallen through the window.

"Well, this is unexpected," Hakkai said, while Gojyo swore under his breath and Sanzo started picking himself off the floor. "Is Goku alive?"

"Not for long," Sanzo rasped, getting a hand to support his weight.

Hakai closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Not enough blood has been lost for Goku to be in any immediate danger – Sanzo wouldn't have let it spill needlessly. Then again, the fact that Goku was just a human child and yet Sanzo was sitting on the living room floor with a chopstick through the eye and bad sunburn on his face was troubling.

"Dude, the kid beat you up?" Gojyo asked, grinning like a loon.

"Fuck you!"

Hakkai took pity at last and helped Sanzo onto the couch. The heady smell of Goku's blood clung to his skin, making thinking hard. "Let me get this out first," Hakkai said, and yanked the chopstick. It came out with a wet splotchy sound, bits of the eye and blood clinging to the wood.

Sanzo howled. Perhaps it was the howl that drowned the sound of knocking and the door being pushed open, because when Sanzo's mouth closed his one good eye opened wide and turned towards the door.

Goku let out a whimper and took a step back. Hakkai caught Gojyo's eye and sprinted to the door, slamming it shut with the impact of Goku's back hitting its surface. "Shush," Hakkai said, his hand over the boy's mouth. He fought for control, this close to the steady flow of Goku's rousing blood. Five inches and he could have it on his tongue. "Did you call the ambulance?" he asked instead, letting Goku just enough freedom of movement to shake his head. "Good."

A glance revealed Gojyo was holding Sanzo in place without much effort, despite the struggling. Hakkai looked down at Goku, who was wide-eyed and terrified, clutching the bleeding gash on the side of his neck, then back at Sanzo, burnt, half-blinded and mad with thirst.

"I can snap your neck in two with no effort at all," Hakkai said, lisping through his extending fangs. Goku froze. "I will take my hand away, and I want you to remain silent. Is that fair?"

The look, brimming with helpless fury, Goku gave him belied the faint nod.

"Good. Now, I don't want to cause you any more pain, but you hurt Sanzo pretty bad, and I have no blood to give him," Hakkai continued, feeling Goku freeze again. In a way, this was good – it allowed Hakkai to just pick him up and carry him to the couch.

"Sanzo," Hakkai said, manhandling Goku to kneel over Sanzo. "Pay attention. You will listen when I tell you to stop, or I will tear off your mandible, then tie you up in the basement and spoon-feed you dog blood, one sip an hour, until you heal. I don't have to tell you it would take months."

Sanzo, if he understood, didn't care to confirm it. Hakkai bit his lip and, avoiding Gojyo's gaze, pushed Goku towards Sanzo.

XXIV.

Sanzo's left eye socket was on fire and he could barely hear. The vampire's voice was white noise next to the siren call that was Goku's blood, finally, finally unbound by flesh and flowing freely down his neck. Sanzo strained against the werewolf's hold, his mouth open not to lose a drop of the precious liquid. He'd been careless before; he wouldn't make that mistake again.

The werewolf loosened his hold and Sanzo's eye closed. He let the steady rhythm of Goku's heart penetrate his mind until his own heartbeat matched, faster than it was used to, but how could that matter when the blood filling his mouth threatened to drown the world. It might as well have, for all Sanzo cared. This was here and now, and he had Goku's warm weight resting against him as he fed on Goku's blood.

He heard Goku moan as his jaws convulsed and his teeth grazed the skin. Sanzo didn't dare to remove his lips from Goku's neck, though he felt an answering moan building in his throat. Were his hands free, he would have tried to touch Goku's skin, run his fingers along the curve of his spine. He wanted to taste the rest of him, he wanted to kiss and lick every inch, just so he would know for sure who this boy was.

Sanzo opened his eye and inhaled through his nose. The intoxication was still there, anchoring his mind to the primal instinct, but the scent of blood was, he realised for the first time, so much less than blood and flesh and sweat.

"That's enough," the other vampire said and Sanzo felt his mouth close. He was too confused to wonder if he'd done it on his own, or if he'd been forced.

XXV.

Gojyo watched Hakkai pull Goku off Sanzo and wondered how in the holy fuck they didn't see this coming. Sanzo was projecting the want for miles; anyone with eyes could see it, and now Goku was descending into shock from the blood loss. Hakkai's senses were flawless – the kid wasn't in any danger – but it would be a day or two before he was well again.

Gojyo let go of Sanzo, when he was sure the vampire was subdued, and fetched bandages and antiseptic from the kitchen. The wound on Goku's neck was neither deep nor was it dirtied, but human physiology needed all the help it could get. Gojyo sniffed at the injury, to make sure Sanzo's blood didn't taint it, before applying the dressing and wrapping the gauze around Goku's neck.

"Gojyo, take him to his room," Hakkai ordered and bent over Sanzo to inspect his eye. Gojyo could see the sunburn had already faded and, though he lacked Hakkai's medical knowledge, he suspected Sanzo's eye would recover faster than Goku would. As far as Gojyo was concerned, the vampire needed a good kicking, not coddling.

"C'mon kid," he said, hoisting the Goku's arm over his shoulder. "Let's get you some sleep, okay?"

Goku went without protest. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he said when they reached his flat.

"One moment," Gojyo pushed through the narrow door and left Goku bent over the toilet while he fetched a glass of water. "Wanna brush your teeth?" he asked, breathing through his mouth, because he might have been a cannibal (in a manner of speaking, he wasn't exactly homo sapiens), but regurgitation was always gross.

"Dunno, will that increase my life expectancy?"

"Truth be told? No."

"Yeah." Goku stood up and reached for the toothbrush. "I figured."

"Ya have chocolate or something?" Gojyo asked, though his nose had already told him there was half a bar in one of the cupboards.

"Should be somewhere," Goku said, which Gojyo took to be permission to rummage. He found the chocolate, cocoa and milk.

"Get to bed," he told Goku while the milk was heating. "I'll, you know. Sit here."

"Fat load of good that does me," Goku slurred, "when you are a-okay with Hakkai having teeth he stole from a cougar threatening to break my neck."

Shit, Gojyo thought. "Goku – Hakkai likes you, trust me on this."

"I'm supposed to ask what he does to people he don't like, aren't I?"

"Well, mostly he tries to ignore them."

"Gee, I wonder why is that so appealing, all of sudden."

"Oh shut up." Gojyo watched Goku fumble with his pants and knew, the instant the thought dawned, that there would be questions he needed to answer and answer them just right.

"None of this surprises you," Goku said. He was quiet. He wasn't asking, he was stating a fact.

"No," Gojyo sighed. "It doesn't."

"You knew he was gonna try and kill me."

"Dude, if Sanzo were trying to kill you, you'd have been dead by now."

"He chewed on my arteries!"

"Again, if he were chewing on your arteries, you'd be dead. A punctured carotid artery can bleed a human being dry in…" Too late Gojyo realised what he was saying. "Fuck. You didn't want to hear that."

"At this point? I think it's better that I know you're after my neck too."

"Personally I'd prefer the heart," Gojyo said pouring the milk onto the cocoa powder. "I like to bite."

"I think I might be sick again. What's that mean? You're not one of them?"

"Them who? Them vampires? No."

"Them fucking what?"

"Now I know you're playing dumb. A guy bites into your neck and the word ivampire/i doesn't cross your mind?"

"Excuse me if I was too busy trying not to freak out!"

"Well, if it's any consolation, you're doing a swell job."

"Yeah, but the breakdown? That's gonna happen any minute."

Gojyo begged to differ. Goku was strong like a willow branch; a creature of the night drinking his blood wasn't going to break him anymore than breaking a bone would. There was a correlation between the scent and the disposition, and Goku's was earthy, for a lack of better word. There was rain and grass in his scent and that translated to a disposition of acceptance and a mind so steady nothing short of an apocalypse could upturn it.

"Nah," he said, pushing Goku onto the bed and handing him the mug. "You're gonna be fine."

"Until Sanzo gets better, you mean," Goku said and paused. His lower lip trembled. "I- I stabbed him in the eye."

"Yeah, it's gonna take a while before he's okay."

"It ain't my fault!" Goku moved to stand up but Gojyo was faster. His hands dropped onto Goku's shoulders, holding him in place. "I didn't mean to!"

"Dude, relax. It's fine, of course it's fine. He fucked up, you did nothing wrong. Hell, far as I'm concerned, you are downright awesome."

Goku gave him puzzled look. "I stabbed him," he repeated slowly, "in the eye."

"You have the faintest how strong Sanzo is? How strong vampires are? And here you go, knocking him flat on his arse. You ought to get a medal."

"I thought you were friends," Goku muttered into the cup.

"Well, if you'd done anything permanent, I'd have been cross," Gojyo said, joining Goku on the bed. "But, huh." How should he phrase it? "Sanzo knew, when he started seeing you, what's at stake. If you hadn't fought back tonight, we'd have smelled it soon anyway, and we would have kicked his arse. Let me tell you, the eye would have been the least of his problems."

"I don't get it. He's your friend, what do you care if he kills me?"

"Honest to god truth?"

"At this point I'm gonna accept anything."

"Hakkai came up with these rules, about not killing humans. These rules let us blend in, because hell, I've met a couple other vampires and they are no more fun than coffin filling. If Sanzo killed you, we would kill him."

"Why?"

"Because that's what you do with a rabid dog, no matter how long you owned it." Gojyo wondered what it said about his humanity, that he was capable of making such callous statements about a guy he loved-and-hated, and mean it too. "Look, you're special," he said eventually. "I kinda feel if he'd killed you, he'd have gone mad."

Goku finished the cocoa and let Gojyo stuff a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "I don't understand," he said around a yawn. "What makes me special?"

"Dunno, Hakkai's working theory is pheromones, but I think it's just that he likes you."

"I wish he liked me less."

Gojyo sighed. "Your blood smells – and I'm guessing tastes – like, huh. It's kinda like you're starving and here's a plateful of the best food you've ever smelled."

"But why? I'm zero plus, that's more common than mud!"

"You are young, healthy and untainted by the junk most people stuff themselves with. You'd be surprised how little that happens. I don't have words to explain it properly. You don't ask why you like someone, you just do. Imagine that, only we smell people as well as we see them."

"It's a little disturbing," Goku said. His eyes were closing, the weariness rolling off him in waves. In a matter of minutes he'd be asleep. "Hey, Gojyo?"

"Yes?"

"What are you?"

Gojyo looked at the picture Goku presented, curled on his side on the large bed, the fresh white bandage on his throat, his golden-brown eyes barely visible between his lashes. He looked so young it was painful. "A moment," Gojyo said and withdrew into the living room. He shimmied out of his clothes and crouched on the floor. "Fuck, I hate this. Stay put," he said so that Goku could hear, and shifted.

"Gojyo?" he heard an alarmed cry from the bedroom, when his bones started morphing beneath his skin and he had to cry out, because shit fucking hell, this was painful! Painful and itchy like fuck. The upside was, it took little time, once he was practiced enough. Gojyo padded back into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed, smelling the panic, disbelief and surprise Goku went through in quick succession.

"Gojyo?"

Gojyo whined and laid down, so that his head was almost touching Goku's chest. He watched the kid raise a hand and put it on top of his skull, rubbing the thick fur. He let out a yip he would deny to his dying day and watched Goku fall asleep.

If there was one thing about being a shapeshifter Gojyo considered useful, it was that people found a large, friendly animal a comfort. Gojyo wriggled, so that he rested against Goku and let himself drift between sleep and wakefulness.


	7. Chapter 7

XXVI.

Goku woke up to disappointment. The whole thing in which Sanzo was a vampire and tried to suck his blood out through his neck was supposed to be a dream, which he'd then share with Sanzo and together they'd laugh about it. Or at least Goku would laugh and Sanzo would smirk. Then maybe they would kiss some, because that part of the nightmare was pretty cool. Goku smiled at the memory of the kiss. That was what should have happened, not the unreal, wacko vampire thing. Goku wasn't supposed to wake up in bed with a wolf, which snored, drooled and smelled of dog.

He wasn't supposed to wake up woozy, with a bandage on his neck.

"I didn't dream it?" he asked when the wolf opened its --his eyes.

Gojyo shook his head.

"Shit." Goku flopped to his back to stare at the ceiling. "Can ya, like, switch? I wanna know stuff. Unless you can talk. Which would be very disturbing, but on a scale of one to clown…"

Gojyo snorted and jumped off the bed. Goku moved to follow, but the wolf turned and poked his stomach with its cold nose. "What?" As a reply he got an insistent bark and another wet push. "Ya want me to stay?"

Gojyo nodded.

"Okay, but ya better explain yourself."

Gojyo trotted into a living room and returned two minutes later, doing up his shirt. "Trust me, you don't wanna see me shift. Hakkai don't wanna see me shift, and he's an inhuman motherfucker."

Goku wondered, if Gojyo found Hakkai an inhuman motherfucker, what hope was there for him. He voiced the thought, on the basis that he wanted to know things and hoped it wouldn't get him killed.

Gojyo smiled, not the least offended. "I love him," he said simply. "He's good to me and he listens to my whining."

Fair enough. Now that the ice was broken, Goku moved in for the big question. "How is it that Sanzo lived this long, if Hakkai has rules about not killing humans?"

"It's a little more complicated than not killing. The rules are that we ain't allowed to kill a person that we want to kill. That's so that we stay in control the whole time. I mean, you've seen what a hungry vampire looks like – it's not pretty."

"Ya think?"

"Smartass. The other rule is that we only kill people whose death will solve more problems than it causes."

"Okay, how does me dying cause problems?" Goku asked, though this was not a question his survival instinct wanted considered too closely. The inquisitive mind wanted to know, though – he had no family and few friends, how did that not mark him as food?

"You fall under rule number one," Gojyo replied. "Sanzo wanted your blood from the moment he saw you, so according to the rules he cannot try, because his investigation wouldn't be objective."

"That's a whole lotta trouble just ta drink."

"Tell me about it."

"So… Your uncle didn't know Sanzo'd try ta kill me?" Goku asked, looking at his hands. He liked Jien. He hated the thought of him plotting his death.

"My what? I don't have uncles," Gojyo said, scratching his head. "At least that I know of, mom kinda stuck to her own company, she was quite odd."

"Jien is your uncle, no?" Goku distinctly remembered Jien mentioning that. "My nephew lives with his boyfriend in central London," he had said, "and I think one of the apartments has just been freed."

"Uncle?" Gojyo laughed, but stopped soon. "Yeah, right. He's an uncle."

"Gojyo."

"What? It's an insignificant detail, in the grand scheme of things!"

"Gojyo!"

"Alright, whatever. He's my brother. Half-brother, anyway, we have the same father."

"Damn. He must have been virile."

"I see the word of the day calendar is working in your favour."

"Shut up."

"He was mostly just freaked. My mother told him she was a werewolf, he freaked out. So she packed herself up, I was maybe three at the time, and my dad went, met and got married with Jien's mom sometime later."

"…what?"

"What 'what'?"

"Jien is old!"

"Oh. That. Yeah, I guess."

"How old are you?"

"Uh – can I plead the fifth?"

"This ain't the U.S!"

"I am allowed to refuse to testify if the testimony may incriminate me."

"And I can phone the friggin' police!"

"I'm seventy as of this year."

Goku opened his mouth and stayed like that, until Gojyo reached out and dropped a piece of chocolate in it. "How the fuck?" he asked weakly. "You look twenty!"

"We age a lot slower," Gojyo said, staring at his hands. "I mean, it ain't like there's studies, but I only stopped having acne issues around thirty. Maybe twenty-six."

"That's gross."

Gojyo shrugged. "Hey, you asked."

"But it doesn't make sense! If you're seventy, how come you don't act seventy? I mean, damn kids, get off my lawn? In my days? It isn't what it used to be?"

"I whined about the Internet."

"You know what I mean."

"Hakkai could explain it a whole lot better. He's studying the whole thing. He says the speed of growth affects the thinking process."

"Meaning what?"

"Look, I ain't exactly a scholar. I like modern times. It's helluva better than the crap back in the fifties, I mean the Internet was a godsend. Maybe it's because I can enjoy it however I please. Like, I don't need to think back fondly on my youth, because this is my youth, still."

Goku turned the statement in his head and nodded slowly. "I think I get it." He took another piece of chocolate. "I'm hungry."

"Ya have anything? I can get you food."

"There's the food Hakkai…" Goku trailed off and stared at the wall, horror dawning. "Please tell me he does food the old fashioned way."

"He uses electrical mixers if that's what you mean." Gojyo smiled and Goku relaxed. "The food is normal, chill." They walked to the kitchen, where Gojyo started rummaging in the fridge.

"So, you eat normal stuff?"

"Well, I prefer raw meat, but cooked works. Not crazy for veggies, but I can digest them, so they ain't a problem either."

"What about Hakkai and Sanzo?"

"They don't need human food. They need blood. They can eat, but they have to chew the hell out of it, so it's inconvenient."

"Oh. Do they also mature as slow?"

Gojyo paused, the Tupperwares in hand, and turned to look at Goku. "I don't know. Hakkai says they age, apparently Sanzo looked just the tiniest bit younger when they met, but it's extremely slow."

"Do they also stop been teens around thirty?"

"Vampires are made, not born," Gojyo said.

Goku blinked. "Made? Like by biting?" the final syllable emerged high and squeaky, and his hand rose on its own to tear at the bandage at his throat. "I don't wanna be a vampire!"

"Goku, stop! Stop, it's okay!" Gojyo grabbed his wrists and held them – without the slightest hint of effort – apart. "It's not enough to be bitten. You'd have to ingest a lot of vampire blood, or have it injected into your bloodstream, and it'd still take a lot. You're fine."

Goku leaned against the fridge. How did his world get so unreal?

XXVII.

Goku seemed to be taking the sudden change in the rules governing the universe well. Gojyo left him to another nap and returned upstairs.

"Okay, what the fuck!" he said, walking into his apartment to find Sanzo sprawled on the couch, sipping blood through a straw.

"Whatever do you mean?" Hakkai asked from the kitchen doorway.

"You know what I mean! You fed the kid to Sanzo! What are you, a fucking pimp all of sudden?"

"He was perfectly safe."

"The hell he was. Don't even try to pretend you didn't want to have a piece yourself."

"I wasn't going to."

"It's not the point! He was terrified enough already, and you made it worse. Jesus, fuck, what is wrong with you!"

"Sanzo needed blood to heal. I had none in the fridge."

"Bullshit. Sanzo would have healed without a drop, it might have taken a week, but he would. Fuck, he could've gone to chew on rats. He didn't need it, and sure as fuck didn't deserve it. No offence, Sanzo," Gojyo added, "but you fucked this up royally."

Sanzo glared at him, the glare so much less potent with the left eye covered with a patch, but nodded. "I know."

"I want to know what the fuck were you thinking," Gojyo said, turning to Hakkai.

"He's our problem now. The tighter the bond, the less likely it will be that he will expose us."

Gojyo goggled. "What? How the fuck did you get to that conclusion?"

"It's easy enough to rationalise one unbelievable experience," Hakkai said. "Easy to rationalise, but not to forget. Better to remove all doubt."

Gojyo marched into the kitchen, poured himself a shot of vodka, downed it, refilled, downed it again, and returned. "You inhuman son of a bitch," he said, the growl rising from the depths of his belly.

"I make no secret of the fact." Hakkai crossed his arms. "I fail to see your point. If you had an objection, you should have voiced it."

"Because it would have been such a splendid idea, with Sanzo crazing out on the couch and Goku bleeding all over the floor." Gojyo glared, because he might have respected Hakkai's superiority when it came to planning and preparing, and keeping their existential needs covered, but he sure as hell wasn't going to have Goku treated as a resource.

"It is done," Hakkai said, finally turning his gaze away.

"Yeah. Whatcha gonna do with him?" Gojyo asked, indicating Sanzo.

"What do you propose I do with him?"

"I'd vote for kicking his ass, except he's kinda pathetic where he sits, so that has to wait."

"Fuck you," Sanzo volunteered from the couch.

"Right back atcha."

"In the interest of our shared safety," Hakkai started saying, but Gojyo interrupted him with a groan. "Oh no you don't."

"Excuse me?"

"You were about to suggest we pack Sanzo and send him back to Colombia, and I'm telling you, it's not going to work."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Please. He lasted what, mere weeks the first time, and that was before he got a good taste of what he's missing. Unless you plan to stand guard, it's pointless."

"Do you have a better idea, then?"

Gojyo was forced to admit he didn't. "Much as it pains me," he said in the end, "our safest best would be to end him." He hated himself for saying that. He liked the kid, dammit!

"No."

Both Gojyo and Hakkai turned towards Sanzo, who'd bent over his knees, a glass of whiskey in hand. "Pardon?"

"You will not lay a hand on him or I will shred you to pieces."

"You have no claim on him," Hakkai pointed out.

"I will not let him die."

"Huh," Gojyo said, because this was something new. Sanzo was advocating for the food now? Since when? "Dude, you feeling okay? Didja join the People Are People Too campaign?"

"People are food. Goku is… not food," Sanzo said.

"Ten out of ten for eloquence," Gojyo muttered, or would have, had there been an ounce of brains left in his head for thoughts other than "say what?"

"This is an interesting development," Hakkai said. "Interesting indeed."

XXVIII.

Hakkai didn't often do things he didn't believe were right. He made a point of it. In the event of being wrong – this had been known to happen – he trusted Gojyo and Sanzo to set him straight. It was part of the reason he was who he was, today, a queer edition of a family man. It wasn't a question of pride, though many may have accused him of this. Hakkai's problem was that he often found no distinction between right and wrong, or rather none that would placate the general public. Hence Gojyo. Gojyo was young enough so as not to be blasé about the fellow man, even though he considered them to be snacks. Hakkai smiled when he thought of the werewolf, had smiled at the thought of him invariably, for the past fifty years. Ever since they met, in fact. Meeting Gojyo had been the singular event, which had made the past century worth bearing.

This was why Hakkai was knocking on the door of the apartment numbered 9. After a while he heard footsteps inside, and his nose told him Goku was approaching. He paused on the other side of the door, looked through the peephole and though he hesitated, he opened the door. He was brave, Hakkai thought, smiling. Of course, he probably knew Hakkai could open the door by pushing, mindless of a lock.

"Whaddya want?" Goku asked.

"I came to apologise," Hakkai said.

"Yeah, thanks," Goku said, mustering all the bitterness he had in him. It wasn't a lot. Goku was a sweet person by nature.

"May I come in?"

Goku looked at the threshold, then up at Hakkai. "What'd happen if I say no?"

"I won't come in, of course."

"But ya could?"

"I do not think it would be polite."

"Thank you, Giles," Goku muttered to himself, opening the door wider.

Hakkai stepped into the apartment. They had done a good job scraping the previous tenant off the floor and walls – if he hadn't been there then, he wouldn't have been able to tell anything had happened. But of course the interior design was not the point of his visit. He turned to Goku.

"I was wrong to do what I did. Sanzo's condition is due to his own failings, you shouldn't have been made to atone for them. I apologise for scaring you."

"Sanzo kinda did that on his own."

"You cannot say I didn't help."

"Look, I get it, okay? You don't hafta be here." Goku scratched at the bandage on his neck, avoiding Hakkai's gaze.

"I am also here to invite you to a Christmas getaway."

"Excuse me?" Goku goggled at him, his mouth falling open.

"We have a cabin in the mountains, which is a perfect spot for spending the Yule. We would have liked it very much if you were to accompany us."

"Us?"

"Myself, Gojyo and Sanzo."

"Are you fucking joking?"

"No. I assure you, I'm being sincere."

"D'ya ask all of your meals this nicely to come off to a secluded house to be eaten and disposed of in private?"

"You will return unharmed, I promise."

"Yeah? Gimme one good reason why I ought to trust ya on that!"

Hakkai's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, his palm spread open on the wall over Goku's head. "I held you," he said, his tone as serene as ever, "in my arms when you bled, and I resisted the urge to feed. I stopped my good friend from taking from you what he dearly wanted to take, so that no harm would come to you."

Goku swallowed, his heartbeat racing. "If you're expecting thanks," he said, "go to hell. I ain't gonna be Sanzo's next supper."

"In the case of that unfortunate event I would like you to understand that you would have been Sanzo's last supper."

"Oddly, that don't make me feel better."

"I understand you have little reason to trust me, but I would like you to understand – if we meant you harm, you would have been dead today. We do not. Gojyo enjoys your company, as do I, and Sanzo… suffice to say he has no desire to be rid of you for the foreseeable future."

This seemed to be the most troubling news for Goku so far. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He has expressed a desire to keep you from harm. I took it to mean he will actively seek to keep you safe."

"Gojyo said I smell good to you," Goku said. "He said it's like food and you're starving."

"He was not incorrect. He might have neglected to mention we are also very experienced and the control we exercise over our hungers is considerable."

"Could've fooled me."

"I understand if you wish to hold this against Sanzo. You can, however, trust me in that respect, and Gojyo is prepared to handle Sanzo on your behalf."

"How can I kill you?" Goku asked abruptly and Hakkai blinked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's only fair," the kid said, glaring at the wall next to the vampire. "I'm gonna go with you, okay. But you're gonna tell me how can I kill you. I can see wood ain't doing the job, or the sun."

"That is fair," Hakkai said, feeling a smile reach upwards of his mouth. This was an unusual occurrence. "We are allergic to sunlight, so prolonged exposure would kill us, faster, the hungrier we are. This is a tedious process, of course. As I am now, I estimate it would take me about a week of continuous sunbathing to die from sunburn.

"Wooden stakes wouldn't be effective, though again, some species of trees are likely to cause more damage than others. Holy water, let me assure you, is no more use against us than it would be against you. Less even, were someone so keen as to try drowning us. Our physiological needs are less pronounced, shall we say."

"That's a fat list of things that ain't gonna kill you," Goku said, furrowing his brows. "I wanna know what will."

"Beheading. There is speculation regarding flaps of skin, but once the spinal cord is severed, we can be safely assumed to be dead."

"That's not reassuring."

"Gojyo, in the interest of full disclosure, would likely survive a beheading, should the head be placed back at his neck before the adjoining cells start dying. He is, however, deathly allergic to silver, so a silver bullet to the heart, if it isn't removed within minutes, would be fatal."

"I'm not sure I wanted to know all that."

"One final thing," Hakkai said, "and I shall leave you to your studies. I need you to understand that should you feel threatened by either of us three, and kill in self-defence, there would be no retribution, so you needn't fear defending your life."

"Why? I mean, I am gonna, no worries, but why would you say such a thing? You are friends, right?"

Hakkai smiled. "This is a promise we made so that we would stay friends." He remembered how it felt to wander the streets and see nothing but carriers of blood, shells that he could bite into and from which he could feed. He hated the person, the thing he had been then. He hated the darkness that swelled within his breast with each kill, and yet he fed, in a futile attempt to silence its roar.

When the beast was finally tamed, he had promised himself that never again would he allow the hunger to define his being. This was why there were the rules. This was why he would enforce them among his friends so that they in turn could enforce them upon him.

XXIX.

Sanzo took the news with a combination of "what the fuck were you thinking" and "…good." He hadn't moved from the couch, ignoring Gojyo's whining and Hakkai's polite rebuttals. The world, once set on its course, would move regardless of his contribution, and he was content to let it spin while his eyeball regenerated.

"But this is dangerous," Gojyo said, as often as once every three minutes.

"I think I have proved I can resist," Hakkai responded, "and together, we are more than enough to subdue Sanzo." He was focused on making a list of things they would need. Chief among them was food. There were enough animals for hunting, but at this time of the year it would be prudent to pack the parsley and potatoes.

Sanzo stayed on the couch and watched the ceiling. He knew he should go home, maybe pack a few things, but he was loath to leave this place. He tried to tell himself he wasn't watching Goku as the boy puttered about the room.

Some time during the day he might have dozed, he wasn't sure. If anything, the sleep made it worse. A sleeping vampire was still aware of his surrounding, always ready to snap into wakefulness should a threat or, more commonly, a meal appear. The dozes provided him enough rest and allowed the time to flutter by. Sanzo had dozed through most of 1918, bored of the bloodshed and pain. This now, this was less a doze and more of waiting.

Goku had agreed to come away with them on a winter retreat.


	8. Chapter 8

XXX.

This was far from the first time Goku questioned his wisdom. Many people had told him, over the years, he was too stupid to be alive, but this was the first time Goku was inclined to agree with them. Sure, he had done some pretty silly things, like diving from the pier while drunk off his arse, to name one, but he liked to think he wasn't suicidal. He had known the spot, he had swum there during the day and he knew perfectly well there was nothing on the bottom to threaten the integrity of his spinal cord. Also, he had been drunk.

Now, however, he had a date with death, because what else could he call a retreat in the mountains with a couple of vampires and a werewolf. He must have been out of his mind when he'd said yes and he'd been sober at the time. Dementia must have come into play, at the ripe old age of nineteen years and eight months.

So, in just a few hours he'd be driving alongside the supernatural trio to the mountains, hoping to hell he'd be able to travel the same route next week with as many limbs as he currently possessed. With these prospects, Goku felt justified in stealing one of Gojyo's beers. In all likelihood he would need the alcohol to soften the blows.

"Yuck," he said after the first sip. Goddamnit, he really should have known better. Beer was not his drink. Still, he persevered. He took the beer with him to the computer. He sat on the floor, his legs on either side of the screen, and Googled 'Dracula.' He must have hit a lucky vein, because the movie downloaded in no time at all. Goku fetched himself snacks and settled on the couch to watch the drama unfold, in stylish black and white.

"Yourrr will is strrrong, Van Helsing," Bela Lugosi was saying, gurgling out the arrs like he got paid per growl. Goku imagined Sanzo in a tuxedo and a cape, which forced him to hit pause to let the giggles die down. That would have been an image worthy of a golden frame, or at the very least a Facebook entry.

On the screen Van Helsing held up a cross and Dracula hissed, and then the werewolf knocked on the door. "Hey kid!"

"Whatcha want, Wolf Man?"

"Is that my beer you're drinking?"

"Well, call it drinking if you will. It's pretty disgusting."

"You've gotta learn to drink."

"My drinking is just fine, thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. It ain't proper drinking till you can burp duh duh duh dum."

"How is that Hakkai even talks to you, you're so uncivilised! What were you, raised with wolves?"

"Har har, very funny. Never heard that one before. What are you doing, anyway?"

"Watching the Dracula movie," Goku said, gesturing to the frozen frame on the screen. Bela Lugosi was caught with his arms high, in what was likely the move which gave birth to Batman.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"You are one creepy kid," Gojyo said, slapping him on the back. "I approve."

"I live for your approval."

"'s what I figured, yes. Now gimme beer."

"Yes, my master."

"See, we are getting along."

"Whatcha want?" Goku asked, handing Gojyo a can.

"How's your packing coming along?"

"Wasn't sure what I need to pack."

"Toothbrush, clothes, soap, let me think. Sleeping bag? Nah, we have plenty," Gojyo was counting out loud and Goku wondered how did they come by the sleeping bags and if anyone had the idea to make a movie about missing tourists in the what-was-it-again mountain range. "Hakkai's packed enough food to last us a month."

"That figure includes me?" Goku asked, going into the kitchen again, for a bag of cookies.

"You're overestimating yourself like whoa," Gojyo told him. "You have something like 10 pints of blood in you, tops. Anyway, just grab a couple changes of clothes and you're good to go."

"Then I'm packed."

"Awesome. Ready to rock and roll?"

"I guess," Goku said, picking up his backpack.

"Great. I'm actually here to sweep you off your feet and carry you to the car."

"Screw you."

"No, really. We're all set. If you're ready, we can get going."

Goku sighed. This was it. He wondered briefly why hadn't it occurred to him to move away, to Timbuktu or further, then he remembered Sanzo's frequent flier miles, and the ease with which he hopped to Colombia on a whim.

Hm.

"Gojyo?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did Sanzo go to Colombia when I moved in?"

Gojyo gave him a long look, ripe with suffering. "Kid, I don't wanna lie to you, and Hakkai insists I shouldn't. You sure you wanna know?"

"Hakkai gave me a manual on how to kill you. With pictures."

"No kidding?"

"Powerpoint presentation with links to videos on Youtube. I'm kinda thinking he's making fun of me."

"He's not. He really isn't." Gojyo sighed. "I'm gonna have to have a talk with him. Didja watch the videos?"

"Yeah, it was mostly clips from horror movies. Lotsa annotated iBuffy/i, too."

"Thank god for small miracles," Gojyo said and Goku shuddered.

"Drop that train of thought," Goku said, poking the werewolf. "Do not make that suggestion, do not plant it in my brain." No one could be disturbing enough to create a motion-picture manual of how to behead a person. No one.

"Okay, fair enough. Colombia huh. Well, cold hard truth is, Sanzo went there to eat."

"He went to Colombia to eat."

"You know how it is, Hakkai makes him work for his food, make background checks, sometimes even post hard evidence to the prosecution, though that only happened once. In Colombia it's a helluva lot easier, plus there's the jungle, which, lemme tell you, fantastic hunting ground."

"He chased down the poor sods," Goku said, his voice high.

"Oh shit. Would it make you feel better if I say they were evil sons of bitches?"

"I'm trying to think how evil they'd have to be, to deserve being chased down like animals."

"Evil enough. Trust me."

Goku did. He suspected himself of madness on that account. How on Earth could he trust a werewolf (a werewolf, for goodness sake!) who justified hunting down a human being, but what other choice did he have? The alternative was living in fear for the rest of his life, and Goku, with his inherent optimism, didn't fancy spending the next sixty years sleeping with one eye open.

XXXI.

Sanzo had been given a strict lecture from Hakkai on his conduct during the drive to Glenshee and the subsequent stay. He was not to spend time with Goku alone, that was a given. Gojyo took time to explain that considering the recent events, Goku might not be too keen on spending time with him. Sanzo, after a lengthy and loud debate, conceded the point. Furthermore, he was expected to keep himself well-fed and therefore not too eager to feast on the boy.

"Yes, because we know that will keep me from craving his blood," Sanzo'd said, crossing his arms.

"It might stop you from killing him," Hakkai'd countered.

"I wouldn't kill him."

"I am not taking chances."

As a result Sanzo had taken shotgun in Hakkai's car. He was already sitting there when Gojyo escorted Goku to the garage, but he resisted the urge to follow them with his eyes. He smelled Goku's surprise as he approached the Jeep; he smelled the approval in the way the kid touched the olive green body, and the curiosity he couldn't hide.

"This is Hakkai's car?" he asked, crouching to look underneath.

"What's so surprising?"

"I was expectin' something more posh."

"I like this one," Hakkai said. "I do not care for luxury."

"This is a very cool car," Goku said quickly. "It's just you look like you might drive a Bentley or something."

"I am not a denizen of the underworld," Hakkai said, smiling.

"Being a creature of the night don't count?"

"Not so much, no. I use Gojyo's car when I need to make a drive around the city, but it's not often that I do. It is faster if I walk."

"Oh? What kinda car you have?" Goku asked, turning to Gojyo.

"Tiny sports thing. Red."

"That's it?" Goku asked after a beat. "What are you, a girl? What kinda car is it? What kinda engine does it have?"

"How should I know? Wait, no – I'm pretty sure it's a Ferrari."

"You're telling me you own a bloody Ferrari?" Goku said, disbelief colouring his voice. "And you drink that crappy beer?"

"I like that beer, I'll have you know. It's not like there's a law saying that if you've got heaps of money you've gotta eat only caviar and champagne. I might make an exception for Burgundy wines, whenever the dinner warrants it, but for the most part beer is good enough."

Goku closed his mouth, uncomfortable. "We have been around for a while, and we have reason to suspect we will stay around," Sanzo said out loud, guessing that was the reason for the sudden discomfort. Goku was transparent in his intentions and thought. "The banking system favours longevity – the interest rates amount to surprising sums, when time is of no consequence."

"Um," Goku said.

"Sanzo's saying it's a lot less impressive when you consider the most we had to do for the money was make a deposit and wait for the interest to cash in," Gojyo said, clapping Goku on the back. "So yeah, we have heaps between us, but it's not like we had to work for it."

Sanzo grimaced, because that was not precisely the truth. He had worked for the money, if by working one understood killing owners of reasonable amounts of cash, back in the day. Sanzo was reasonably certain Hakkai never shared the specifics with Gojyo. Only now did he understand why Hakkai would be reluctant to share that detail so, to them, insignificant.

"That is an untruth," Hakkai was saying in response to the allegations of not working.

"I stand corrected. Hakkai has stocks, and apparently they are raking in a tidy fortune all on their own," Gojyo said, grinning. "It's all Greek to me, so yeah."

"Are we ready yet?" Hakkai asked, hefting Goku's pack into the trunk.

"Yeah."

"Hop in then, and we shall be off."

XXXII.

Hakkai pulled out into the evening. He wasn't a big fan of driving – commanding a vehicle was, to him, giving up control, for there was no sure way to make the car obey his will in minute detail. For that reason he preferred to drive by night, when there was less traffic, and therefore less chances of plunging into an unsuspecting driver by mistake, killing both the person in charge of the wheel and the unfortunates travelling alongside. There was also the matter of abandoning the car and leaving the police to wonder what happened to the driver, given the damage to the vehicle, but it was superior to explaining why was there no mark on him when the other guy had a steering wheel stuck in his chest.

This time it was different, and Sanzo wasted no time in reminding him. This time he wasn't transporting three immortals, whose only concern would arise from a truck bearing a load of glass panes. The odds of decapitation during a car accident were insignificant, and so neither the vampires nor the werewolf considered traffic lethal. Now, however, there was a human boy in the backseat, one whose life was fragile and therefore precious. Hakkai found that the knowledge of how an insignificant accident could cause fatal injuries to a human body acted as a better brake than the brake itself.

"This car is awesome," Goku said, his fingertips stroking the rubber by the window.

"It's been around a while, Hakkai makes sure it runs okay."

"It sounds good," Goku said, closing his eyes. Hakkai watched him in the rear-view mirror. "It purrs."

This seemed to conclude the conversation. Goku watched the view for a couple more minutes, but the steady pulse of the streetlights lulled him to sleep long before they reached the M1. He slid down the seat in his sleep, coming to rest his head in Gojyo's lap.

"Why is he not wearing a seatbelt?" Hakkai asked, when Gojyo grabbed a jacket and spread it over the boy.

"Dunno, he has faith in your driving skills?"

"Gojyo."

"I mean, we already knew he was a bit dim," the werewolf continued with affection clear in every word, "this just cements it."

"I am not sure whether your good humour in relation to my driving skills is appreciated."

"What driving skills?" Sanzo asked, rolling his eyes. Hakkai looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I do hold a driving licence, something that you have yet to accomplish. I think that makes you unqualified to question my expertise."

"I am allowed to say you could do with more practice," Sanzo said.

"I see no point in driving around town when I can reach any spot within city limits faster when I jog."

"Unnoticed?"

"There are the underground tunnels, the sewers, plus I find that many people fail to pay attention. In any case, you are the last person who should be lecturing me on the importance of commuting out of sight."

"Can't argue there. People are half-blind. So long as you ain't sinking your teeth into their necks…" Gojyo grinned, this time at the back of Sanzo's head.

"You have something to say to me," Sanzo said, turning, "say it to my face."

"I think I've already said everything. Let's not get repetitive, or loud. The kid needs his rest, if he's gonna be fearing for his life all the way through Christmas."

Sanzo fell silent after that, though he stayed where he was, sitting sideways in the front seat, contemplating the child in the back.

"I still want to bleed him dry," he said when Goku snuffled and tried to turn onto his back.

Hakkai understood where he was coming from, though the intensity was surprising. He had known Sanzo for such a long time, and yet this was the first time he observed such fervent desire.

"I invite you to try," Gojyo said.

"I won't," Sanzo replied, never tearing his eyes from Goku.

XXXIII.

It was a ten-hour drive, central London to Glenshee. They had the advantage of being inhuman, though, and they were not afraid to use it. Hakkai drove all the way through, without pausing for rest or coffee. The latter was in no small part aided by the fact that Goku slept for most of the way.

It was 8 am when Hakkai reached the final stretch of road, hidden from the general populace by snow and trees. The Jeep climbed the steep stretch of slippery surface with caution, as if every inch was a disaster in the making. It rolled to a stop under the covers of four pines, so close as to afford a semblance of a garage among the snow.

Goku woke when the engine stopped. "This is it?" he asked rubbing at his eyes. "I'm hungry."

"Well, so are we, and you don't hear us complaining," Gojyo said, stepping out of the car. Dammit, but he hated being cooped in the car for so long.

"Thanks for making me comfortable, jerk!" Goku yelled. He opened the door on the other side and hopped onto the snow. "Jesus Christ, it's cold!"

"It's minus ten."

"Minus what?" Goku dove into the truck for the jacket he slept under. He wrapped it around himself and continued shivering.

"Oh dear," Hakkai said, folding his hands and Gojyo spent a minute staring at the kid, flabbergasted.

"Oh crap," he managed in the end. "How could you forget?" he asked Hakkai.

"Don't look at me, I am older than you!"

"Yes, but I was never human in the first place."

"What now?" Sanzo asked, coming around the car.

"Goku is cold," Gojyo explained, while Goku glared at him for stating the obvious. "Dude, have you even seen snow?"

"I'm not stupid! Of course I've seen it, but you didn't tell me it's gonna be this friggin' cold!" he said, his teeth chattering a drumbeat to the verse.

"Hey, we mentioned the mountains!"

"You also mentioned a house! Where the hell is it, anyway?" Goku looked around, but there was not a dwelling in sight.

"Yeah, that." Gojyo turned to Hakkai, hoping for some help.

"There're still several miles to go. We refused to have a road built."

"What- you own the mountain?"

"I am pretty certain Gojyo is the one who owns it," Hakkai said, looking at the sky. It looked like it might snow again soon. Gojyo followed his gaze. Yeah, there was the stinging sensation up his nose. Snow was coming.

"Me?"

"Your name is on the deed."

"Yeah, it might be."

"I give up. You also have property in the Vatican?" Goku cocked his head to the side, a difficult feat as he was also trying to warm up his ears with his shoulders.

"Dunno, but it's tempting. Hey, let's go and vampirise the Pope. That's gonna be fun, eh?" Gojyo said, rubbing his hands together. "Vampire Pope! He's after your soul and your blood! OoooOOOoooh."

"I think we have bigger problems at the moment," Sanzo said, slapping Gojyo upside the head. Gojyo turned to retaliate, but was stopped by the sight of Goku hopping in place. His lips were already bluish.

"Damnit. It's gonna be what, half an hour?"

"Twice that," Hakkai said. "Average human marching speed is at four miles per hour and this is a steep trail. We're going to have to carry him to the cabin."

"What? Hell no!" Goku said. "I can manage!"

"It's going to be an hour, at least, and you are already freezing," Hakkai said. "Trust me, it's for the best. Sanzo, you grab half the bags, and Gojyo, you take Goku."

"Why me?" Gojyo whined, out of habit rather than exasperation. The boy was no burden to carry. He couldn't weight more than what, twelve stone? No problem.

"Because you are the warmest."

"Look, it's stupid," Goku said. "I'll put something on and I can go, no big deal."

"Do you have clothing appropriate for these temperatures?" Goku was forced to admit he didn't. "There you go. Tomorrow we shall go and get you some. For now we must make do with what we have at out disposal. The cabin is warm, once we get the fire going, so you needn't worry about that."

"So you do get cold?" Goku asked, opening his eyes wide. He closed them as soon as they opened, against the biting cold.

"Of course, we are not dead. We feel the cold, but it does us little harm. You, however, are on your way to becoming a Popsicle. Why are you still standing here?"

Goku took a step back. "It's not a good idea. I'm a lot heavier than I look," he said and Gojyo rolled his eyes. He crouched and hooked the fingers of his right hand underneath the bumper of the Jeep. He stood, taking the car up to the level of his hip as he straightened. That did require effort, but between the three of them they could carry the Jeep up the mountain. It would be slow and would require pit stops, but they could manage. Gojyo was therefore watching the expression on Goku's face with a mixture of gleeful amusement and the tiniest hint of apprehension. You could never be sure what would set off a human, and a snowy forest in the middle of nowhere was not a good place for a breakdown.

"Yeah, that," Gojyo said when Goku shut up. "Unless your arse has a police booth up it, I suspect I can manage."

Goku closed his mouth. Whether because of the shock or the fact that icicles were starting to form on his tongue, was up for debate. Gojyo took it as consent. He reached out for Goku's hand and lifted him onto his back. "Hold on to my neck," he said.

"I feel awkward," Goku said when Gojyo hooked his forearms under Goku's knees. Gojyo could feel his face attempt a blush, though the biting cold ruined the effort.

"Better awkward than hypothermic," Gojyo said. "We good to go?"

"Almost," Hakkai said, handing Sanzo Goku's backpack and closing the trunk. "There. Everyone okay?"

"I can't decide whether I'm hot or cold," Goku said, wiggling.

"Gojyo is warmer than humans usually are. Don't worry, it won't be long."

"You said an hour."

"Yes, if we walked alongside you. This way we can go much faster."

"On foot?"

Gojyo grinned. "Oh, this is going to be fucking hilarious," he said out loud and got going.

It might have been wrong of him to enjoy every panicked squeal Goku let out during the journey. He might even have admitted to speeding on purpose, just to scare the kid. It was all done it good fun though, and Goku started to recognise the fun inherent in being carried through a snowy forest at speeds usually available only to mechanical vehicles.

"Be careful, Gojyo," Hakkai called.

"Yeah, yeah," Gojyo replied, too drunk on the speed and chase of nothing. Goku clung to his back, but his heartbeat raced like that of a child on a rollercoaster, and the sound of his gasp in Gojyo's ear was joy and exhilaration, not fear. That wasn't to say Gojyo wasn't careful. He knew his strength – he took care to avoid low-hanging branches and roots. He suspected Sanzo would skin him alive should anything happen to his cargo.


	9. Chapter 9

XXXIV.

The cabin was just as they'd left it the year before, half buried on the side of the mountain, hidden from aerial view by copious amounts of snow. Hakkai made a cursory round to check for any unwelcome guests, but there were none to be found. Vampires were borderline scentless, whatever hints of their presence they left dissipated within hours. Species which possessed the best olfactory senses could maybe track a vampire after a several hours have passed, but even then it was close to guesswork. Nevertheless, one adult werewolf in a house for a week could make the cockroaches wary of entering, let alone bigger game. Even after a year the musk kept rodents away.

"Ouch, damnit," Goku said, falling into the fresh snow. He sprung up not a second later, when the coldness seeped through the thin pants he was wearing. "Cold!"

"See, this is snow," Gojyo said. "It is made of frozen water. Also, I hear no two snowflakes are alike."

"Yeah, I heard about that. What the hell, some of them are perfectly exact white lumps."

Hakkai raised an eyebrow. "You looked?"

Goku grinned and held up a hand of white fluff. "Yeah, seemed like a good thing to investigate." He looked around. "Can we maybe go in? 'm kinda cold."

"Ah, apologies. Gojyo, would you fetch firewood?"

The door was frozen to the frame, but one strong push persuaded it to open. The inside of the cabin was not that much warmer than the outside, not having been graced by a living being for close to a year, but Gojyo returned soon enough with an armful of wood. Hakkai did the honours of kindling the fire. Some skills never went away, and Hakkai had been born to an age in which lighting a fire was an every-day chore. He peeled the bark off a log and arranged it around the remnants of a newspaper from the previous year. He put a match to the paper and within moments the flames sprung up, licking at the cold wood. Goku huddled close to the fireplace, holding out his hands for warmth. "It will be a while before it gets warmer," Hakkai cautioned, standing.

From the inside the house was surprisingly large. The living room had no windows, as there were bedrooms in the front and the kitchen and bathroom on the side. The back of the hut was kept from the chilly air by the mountain into which it was built. They had it built long after heat stopped being a problem, but it was sufficiently insulated to keep a human warm. "Now, I suppose a breakfast would not go amiss, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, God yes, I'm so hungry," Goku said. "Hey, can someone turn on the light?"

Ah, Hakkai thought. He had the feeling there was something he should have remembered. Gojyo reached for the switch on the wall, and turned it a couple of times, to no effect. "Oh dear."

"There's no light?" Goku said, weary rather than surprised. "I knew it."

"I think we might have torches," Hakkai said.

"From the last angry mob whose tried to stake you?"

"Oftentimes we too require light."

"Awesome," Goku said, flopping onto the rug covering the floor in front of the fireplace. "Can I have one?"

A torch was provided and Goku spent the next couple of minutes inspecting the ceiling. "There's no wires," he said.

"I probably should have mention there is no electricity here," Gojyo said, clapping a hand on Goku's shoulder.

"What? No electricity?" there was a hint of panic in Goku's voice. "What the hell do you do?"

"We talk," Gojyo said. "Gaze into one another eyes' soulfully…"

"What, with no light?"

"… share meals, talk some more, crochet, walk around the mountain."

"Ah," Goku said, his voice betraying earnest panic.

"Gojyo," Hakkai interrupted, "stop. There is electricity. We have solar panels on the roof and a generator in the basement. We should try changing the light bulbs, before we start panicking."

"Way ta give me a heart attack, jackass!" Goku whacked Gojyo over the head.

"Was fun while it lasted."

"Wait, you have solar power?" Goku asked, turning to Hakkai.

"Circumstances being what they are, I am certain you understand why we're interested in renewable energy sources."

"I guess."

Sanzo appeared, carrying a couple of light bulbs. He exchanged the two affixed to the opposing corners of the living room and flipped the switch.

"That is a problem," Hakkai said when nothing happened.

"So, no light," Goku said. He directed the torch's light at the two lamps and followed the wires. "Can I have a look?" he asked over his shoulder from the brink of the basement.

"Certainly."

Hakkai continued with preparing the food. He employed his eyes more than his other senses, but he could easily get by in the absence of light. A fire on its way to roaring was sufficient for the purpose of preparing food in the otherwise dark interior.

He was peeling the onion when something in the basement made a whirring noise and the lights flickered to life. Goku emerged several seconds later, his fingers stuck into his mouth.

"Issh sho cold," he mumbled around them. "Da jenerator wash frozshen."

"Not fatally, I see."

"No, but it was stuck."

"Splendid. Thank you, Goku." If Sanzo refused to turn the boy, Hakkai might well consider it now. It had always been a pain to get a contractor up here. Someone knowledgeable in the field of mechanics could well prove to be of use. But that wasn't to be considered now, this close to where Sanzo was standing. "There's a delightful town nearby, and you may take the time to ski. Gojyo tells me the resort is satisfactory."

"It's awesome," Gojyo enthused, but Goku curbed his enthusiasm. "I can't ski."

"Everything in its own time. Speaking of which, I trust you don't mind receiving your Christmas present early, Goku?"

"My what?" Goku asked, turning with such a tragic expression of panic on his face, it was painful to watch without cracking a smile. "I don't need gifts," Goku said, holding up his hands. "I'll settle for getting back alive."

"Yes, I imagine that would be the case." Hakkai reached for his bag and handed Goku a long, flat parcel.

"I didn't get you guys anything," Goku said. The heat was filling the cabin slowly but surely, and just in time to allow a rosy flush to colour Goku's face.

"It is quite alright," Hakkai said, his hand firm over Gojyo's mouth. Half a century and he learned to anticipate lewd suggestions of methods of repayment. "We didn't give you time to prepare."

Goku was too nice to say he was uncomfortable, which, Hakkai was ashamed to admit, was half the point of gift-giving at this time. The more indebted he felt, the less were the chances he would give away their nature to a pitchfork-wielding mob. He would have a slight problem with finding an adequate mob, since as the times progressed a pitchforks as weaponry was harder and harder to find, but Hakkai wasn't prepared to take chances. Goku was theirs now; theirs to keep, and he would stay that way.

XXXV.

Goku, though he favoured the global method of unwrapping presents, took his time. Hakkai must have packed the gift, it was too meticulous to be the work of Gojyo and the presence of the wrapping paper disqualified Sanzo as the culprit. Goku set aside the shiny wrap and the ribbon and turned his attention to the lacquered wooden box within. There was a clasp halfway through, metallic and heavy, and Goku was no expert, but this had "I'm expensive, ask me how" written all over it.

"It's a machete," he said in the end, staring at the contents of the box. Well, he thought, it could have been worse. It could have been a hand, or something. He wasn't up to date on vampiric customs; maybe this was the norm.

"I thought it would make you feel better."

The machete came with a scabbard, thankfully not jewel-encrusted, but still from the top shelf – leather with metal finish, plain but in a way that was highly decorative. Goku set the box aside and tried the edge. He needn't have touched it, the way the light gleamed off it he could tell it was going to be sharp, but he tried anyway. It sliced through the fine hair of his forearm. "Ya thought a sharpened piece of metal would make me feel better," Goku repeated, feeling as though his throat was squeezed. This was either very disturbing or very sweet, and the worst part was, he wasn't sure which.

"In either case, I promised you breakfast," Hakkai said. "Afterwards there is some shopping to be done."

"What?" Gojyo asked. "I thought we had everything?"

"Everything except clothes for Goku. He can't well stay in here the whole time, can he?"

Sanzo muttered something that might have been "suits me," but Goku, in the interest of not employing his gift too soon, paid him no mind. He'd already decided on not shaving until the New Year, just in case.

"Goku, you'll be staying in there," Hakkai said, pointing to a door on the other side of the room.

"Wait, where am I supposed to sleep?" Sanzo asked.

"There is the couch."

"Like hell!"

"Goku needs a door, may I remind you, to shut in your face should that prove necessary," Hakkai said with a beatific smile. Goku shuddered, because there was just something about the tone that sent shivers tap-dancing down his spine. "Also, as I'm sure you realise, the bedrooms are much warmer than the living room and Goku is sensitive to cold."

"It's not a big deal," Goku protested immediately, eyeing the couch. It looked more than sufficient, and hell, he'd slept on the sleeping mats that claimed to be fit for a night's rest and emerged none the worse for wear. He'd have suffered the floor, given a sleeping bag and something to prop his head on.

"No," Sanzo said, deflating. "Hakkai's right. Take the room."

"I really-"

"Take the room. It's warmer."

Goku was prepared to stay and argue, but Gojyo took the matters in his own hands, literally, by picking him up and carrying him over his shoulder to the tiny room. Much like Goku's bedroom back in London, a large bed occupied most of the space. There was a lamp fixed to the wall over the head of the bed, but while the sun was up it was unnecessary, as on the opposite wall there was a large window, admitting more than enough sunlight. Whatever room was left had been used to fit a small cast iron furnace.

Gojyo dropped Goku onto the bed, amidst the duvet and the pillows. The impact forced a cloud of stale air to rise from the mattress, cold and yet not dank. Goku felt, for a second, disoriented when the cloud enveloped him. This smell brought memories to mind, memories he had such a tenuous grasp on that they were more dreams. Mom used to put bags of lavender in the cupboard with the sheets, Goku recalled as he stopped bouncing and lay staring at the wooden ceiling. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, as if by some kind of magic, nothing was as scary anymore.

"Hey, you okay?" the werewolf asked, returning with a handful of wood.

"Yeah."

"So, toasty warm, sauna warm, or middle east?"

Goku scratched his head. "How about just warm?"

"Aw, come on! Ya need heat, else you're gonna freeze after the bath."

"You have a bath?"

"State of the art for nineteen-ten."

"What?"

"Oh, we have indoor plumbing. Hakkai insisted. But the hot water needs to be dragged in from the kitchen, so anytime you need a bath give us a yell."

"Um."

"It's not bad, trust me."

"Yet, somehow, I'm wary."

"Hakkai's nearly done with the food," Gojyo said, straightening. "Give the fire a moment to get started, and in an hour or so you're gonna have a nice toasty room. Oh, and the sheets should be in the wardrobe outside, you're welcome to stuff your shit in there, too."

"Thanks." Goku gave the bed a pat and followed the smell of sizzling bacon.

XXXVI.

Sanzo was starting to hate himself, over the course of the Christmas break. That minute, for instance, on a Tuesday morning, he was sitting on the couch, reading a book, and had just realised that for the past fifteen minutes he had read three pages only to realise the book was upside down. On the other hand, he was acutely aware of the fact that Goku was outside, new jacket hanging on the ledge, chopping wood. Pine blocks, by the smell of them.

"Fuck," he said, dropped the book, and went outside. Hakai shot him a warning glare from the kitchen, but Sanzo paid him little attention. Eyes closed, he followed the scent of Goku to the block for chopping wood. "What are you doing?" he asked upon opening his eyes.

"Huh?" Goku turned towards him, face bright and shining with sweat.

"What is this you are practising?" Sanzo clarified, indicating the machete and the block of wood it was stuck in. "Last time I checked there was a perfectly good axe."

Goku looked away, as if embarrassed and Sanzo found the dots spew lines that connected into a clear picture. "This is pointless, you realise."

"What is?"

"You won't behead anyone like this, unless they very deliberately lay their heads on the block."

"I wasn't!" Goku protested, and Sanzo folded his arms. The kid was such a poor liar: he couldn't hide an emotion if his life depended on it. Sanzo shuddered to imagine what it must have been like, being this honest. It was a wonder he was still alive.

"Learn a horizontal strike," he said coming closer. He picked up another block and on top of it he placed a ball of tightly packed snow. "Strike from the shoulder. Take a step, make inertia do the work for you, not your muscles."

"Ya chopped off many heads in your time?" Goku asked, following Sanzo's instructions. The snowball fell off the perch and broke on the ground, but at least the groundwork was there. From there to lopping off heads was going to be a walk in the park.

"I played cricket." Sanzo picked up a thin stick and swung it like he was batting a ball, to Goku's amusement.

"You're kiddin'."

"I'm not in the habit of kidding," Sanzo said. "Sarcasm is my forte."

"Strangely enough, that's the least of your problems."

"I have problems?" Sanzo asked the back of Goku's head. How unexpected it was, that the mere change in temperature brought such a difference to the scent of Goku's skin. Back in the city he was a walking mist of rich gold, here in the snow the colours paled to a bright yellow, all the more striking for its brilliance.

"Yes, and this 's one of 'em," Goku said, taking a step back. Sanzo had come so close, he was almost touching the kid. Under the circumstances, he suspected this must have been uncomfortable. "I won't hurt you."

"Your history says sumthin' else."

"I learned." Sanzo rubbed at his left eye. It was still tender, as in all likelihood not all nerves were in place yet: Sanzo found his vision faulty at times, but it was very near full regeneration.

Goku's reaction to the reminder was rather peculiar. He took another step back and averted his eyes. "I didn't wanna," he said, biting his lip. How bizarre that he regretted defending his life.

Sanzo smirked and took a couple steps towards Goku, trapping him against a wall. "I'm not holding it against you."

The bandage on Goku's throat had since been replaced with a plaster. Sanzo smelled the congealed blood, hiding fresh pink skin, not yet strong enough to do its job. There would be a scar, he realised. He touched his mouth to the fabric, in apology. "I'm sorry for this," he said.

"For what, scarin' me half to death?"

"The scar."

"'m in no pageants, I don't need to be pretty." Goku shrugged and Sanzo let the movement carry his mouth to Goku's. The kid's lips were cold and salty, moist with sweat. Had Sanzo been anything less than a cold-blooded killer he would have trembled with delight when they parted beneath his mouth.

He didn't let the opportunity go to waste. He pressed Goku harder against the wall. Sanzo's palms were flat against the coarse wood, on either side of Goku's head, arms bent at the elbows. This close Sanzo felt the tendrils of body heat sneaking from under the sweater Goku wore. So close to the skin, the scent was at its most base, the colour of a summer afternoon, clear and strong, all the more interesting for the contrast of the thoroughly human notes of sweat, food and lavender, and the chemicals from the brand new ski jacket provided. Sanzo hated to think of himself as a sexual being, but the first hints of arousal tingeing Goku's scent resonated within Sanzo, setting his nerves on fire. The liquid heat flowed through his body, pooling in his groin and he pressed against Goku harder still, hip to hip, while his mouth opened wider, drinking in the breath escaping the kid's soft mouth.

Fuck the damned werewolf, Sanzo thought, he was right.

That was roughly the same moment he realised there was a sharp sensation at his throat. He stepped away from Goku, forcing his heart to still. He ignored the tip of the machete at his skin, focusing instead on Goku's eyes.

"Don't," Goku said. "No."

Sanzo mustered all the diplomacy he had developed not to point out that there was neither 'no' nor 'stop' in the kisses they'd exchanged.

"I," Goku tried again. "Damnit. Can't ya at least wait 'til it heals?" he beseeched, his palm against his neck.

"I can," Sanzo said, swallowing the vehement denial. The skin was almost mended. It wouldn't be long, he told himself, and this was not a rejection. Goku, bless his defective basic instincts, had no intention of keeping him at bay.

XXXVII.

Gojyo loved skiing. Not for the speed, because he could run faster, and not for the rush, because, well, he had hunted humans in the jungles of South America. He couldn't explain it, not in any way that would satisfy Hakkai. He just found there was something made of pure awesomeness in the fact that he could fix a couple of boards to his feet and fly down a smooth, white slope, not a care in the world.

"So, it's all simple as pie," he told Goku, who wobbled in the stiff boots. "The point is not to get killed as you get from top of the mountain to the bottom."

"Easy for you to say," Goku replied, muttering about werewolves and healing and trees.

"What was that?"

"I said okay."

"Just try to keep your feet going in more or less the same direction."

"That sounds simple enough," Goku said, stepping hard into the bindings. They clicked and Gojyo, satisfied that they would hold, handed him the poles and then pushed him down the slope. For the first ten yards it went well, but then Goku tried something more complicated, like adjusting the trajectory, and the skis made an attempt at exchanging places.

"That didn't go so well," Gojyo said five minutes later, stopping below Goku to help him up. "Perhaps you should have learned to slow down first."

"Perhaps someone sucks as a teacher."

"I'm awesome, and you know it."

"Yeah, real fabulous," Goku yelled fifteen minutes later, as Gojyo collected his missing ski on the other side of the slope.

"I've gotta say, this is the first time I saw someone manage a fall this spectacular on a slope this flat."

"Fuck you. Ouch," Goku groaned. "I think I've broken something."

"No, you haven't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"'cause you ain't bleeding."

"It's possible to break shit without bleedin'."

"Something always gets torn and bleeding," Gojyo said. "Inside, I mean. And I can smell a drop of blood from the other side of the stadium. You're fine, get off your arse – ya can't keep falling if ya sit on it."

"You're so very inspiring."

"I know," Gojyo grinned. Spectacular skill in finding every hinge in the otherwise smooth surface aside, Goku was a fit kid. A couple more crashes, and he managed to perfect the art of coming to a complete stop without ending up face first in the snow. "Awright!" Gojyo yelled, punching the air. "Break? There's mulled wine and beer, and I'm dying for a snack."

"Screw snacks," Goku said. He stood up straighter and, still wobbling like Winnie the Pooh's best effort at spelling, started towards the lift. "I think I'm getting the hang of this," he said.

"Yeah, I mean you only fell twice in one hundred yards, that's gotta be improvement."

"Shut up. It's fun!" Goku exclaimed, and Gojyo could, at best, shake his head and wave his snack and beer goodbye.

He regretted giving in later, when they got home and Goku collapsed into the bed, asleep before his head his the pillow.

"Did he eat anything?" Hakkai asked.

"Yeah, I dribbled chocolate sauce into his mouth on the lift. Frigging hell, little bastard has drive," Gojyo said.

"Gojyo. Without proper nutrition administered on a regular basis…"

"Ah, shut up. He'll be fine. He's tired, he's gonna be too sore to move tomorrow, he can eat then. Besides, it's what, four? He'll gonna wake up in a couple hours, hungry as hell."

"You would be as confident telling this to Sanzo?"

Gojyo took a glance behind his back, anticipating the flash of blond. Sanzo was there, but he wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on the kid sleeping across the unmade bed, half out of the skiing pants. There was the look on his face that oftentimes preceded fat headlines "three go missing, police helpless" by a few days. "No, I think to Sanzo I can confidently say, hey dude, we're going hunting."

No one was more surprised than Gojyo when the vampire went without a word.

"Man," Gojyo said as they turned to leave, "do not pull that stunt again. I like the kid! Unlike you losers, he is fun."

"I'm not going to hurt him," Sanzo said, and Gojyo turned towards him. Something was off, he could tell, but the problem with bloody vampires was that their bodies gave very little away. He had to focus hard, but the answer was as bloody obvious as it was surprising.

Sanzo threw a punch at his head, as a preventive measure, but Gojyo didn't stop grinning. "Okay, okay, I ain't gonna say it!" It was enough that he knew.

God, he loved being right.


	10. Chapter 10

XXXVIII.

Sanzo was not so much territorial as he was solitary. He didn't resent Goku for taking the room that had been his ever since the cabin became their property. Truth be told, it made him excited, imagining Goku's scent on his sheets, or even better, both of them, tangled in the throes of passion.

Fuck, the damned kid was turning him into a cheap romance novel.

Sanzo snorted and jumped off the branch on which he'd sought his daily dose of brooding. No, he didn't begrudge Goku his living space, but his daily brooding rituals he would observe, sub-zero temperatures or not. The problem, of course, was that even he had limits. After an hour of sitting on a frozen branch, wearing nothing but jeans and a flannel shirt, he had to make his way home, to banish the chill from his bones. He started towards home, for once taking pleasure in walking. A rabbit flew from his path, mindless with panic. Sanzo let the fuzzy creature live, for now. He'd find it later, when he grew hungry.

He wandered into the cabin eager for a little warmth. The cold, though unlikely to do any damage over periods of time less than a week, was nevertheless uncomfortable. Luckily, thanks to the human guest, Hakkai made sure the fireplace always buzzed with heat. At the moment most of it was bestowed on Goku, who was stretched out on the rug, nose buried in a book. A strange sight, Sanzo wouldn't have pegged him for the bookworm type; he wasn't aware they had any pop-ups in their mountain collection. As far as he could remember this was where Hakkai's penchant for Russian literature was born, and the bookshelf reflected his inclination.

Sanzo moved towards the couch, to catch a few words over Goku's shoulder. "left room, fixed stars…"

"Is that iA Brief History of Time/i?" Sanzo asked.

Goku rolled onto his back, to stare at Sanzo. "Jesus, warn a guy! Whazzit with you and standing so close?" Sanzo kept silent. "Yeah. Most of the other books are friggin' huge, and some of them are in Russian!"

"Hakkai brought them here."

"Hakkai speaks Russian?"

"Not very well, but he can read it with little trouble."

"That is cool."

"iA Brief History of Time/i, though?"

"You have nothing else to do here!" Goku stretched on the rug again and Sanzo sat on the couch, propped his feet on the coffee table, and stared at the fiery halo over Goku's head. "You have no magazines, no videos or a computer."

"Just be careful with it."

"Is it yours?" Goku asked, turning to Sanzo with interest. "Really?"

"It's a first edition, signed by the author."

Goku blinked and went back a few pages. "No way! You've met Stephen Hawking?"

"I attended his lectures for a while. This book is easily digestible, but his lectures weren't as easy, I have to say."

"Wow." Goku returned to his page. "So, you studied physics?"

"Briefly."

"Ya remember anything?" Goku's smile was impish, and Sanzo had to smile back.

"A little."

Goku's smell mixed with the scent of carbon and smoke – this was good; his blood seemed less potent that way. Sanzo watched the flickering light catch in the strands of Goku's spiky hair, bloom on the curves of his cheek, pouring into the ridge of his spine, where the t-shirt rode up. "What colour are you?" Sanzo asked suddenly, surprising himself with the need to match visual colours he could still imagine with the synesthetic picture that his senses painted.

Goku raised his head, puzzlement written on his face. "I'm Caucasian, I thought 's obvious."

"I know that," Sanzo said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not blind. I mean your eyes."

Goku sat up, crossing his legs. "Uh, my passport says they're brown."

"My passport says I was born in 1979 in Washington D.C. Passports aren't to be trusted."

"You don't sound American," Goku said, cocking his head. The firelight shot out, catching the stubble on the edge of his jaw. Sanzo thought it pathetic he could count the individual hairs, even more so that he wouldn't mind trying.

"I wasn't born in 1979, either," he said in reply.

"Oh? How old are ya anyway? I asked Gojyo. You know he said he's older than Jien? And Jien's like sixty! It boggles the mind, seriously."

This had the potential to end in tears, Sanzo thought, recalling the parish in which he was born. His earliest memories were of his mother's wide skirt, with folds wide enough for a child to hide between, which tapered into a waist so thin, breathing must have been a chore rather than an involuntary reflex. "I'm older," he said.

"When were ya born?" Goku asked.

"Earlier than Gojyo."

"Sanzo!"

"Eighteen forty-three."

"What?"

"I was born in 1843."

"No way," Goku said, his eyes going so wide Sanzo worried they might pop out of his head. It would serve the kid right, for jamming a chopstick into Sanzo's. "You- paedophile!"

"God, the school system suffered when they removed Greek from the curriculum."

"What the hell?"

"Paedophilia is sexual attraction to prepubescent children, as evidenced by the Greek word 'paedo'. You are an adult." Well, close to adult. Past pubescence, anyway.

"'m way, way, iway/i younger than you! Jesus, there are museum artefacts younger than you!"

"All things considered, my sexual attraction to my own age group would involve grave desecration," Sanzo said.

"Eww. Thank you so much for puttin' that image in my head. I needed it. Then again…" Goku turned to look at the fire. "It kinda makes sense, what with the coffin business and all."

"Go to hell."

"Screw you."

"Glad we're on the same page." Sanzo looked away but still his eyes drifted back to Goku after a couple of minutes. "I was being serious," he said.

"Huh?"

"About the colours."

"Oh. Why?"

Sanzo sighed. "Because I'm colour-blind."

Goku fell silent. "But I'm not green," he said.

What was going on in schools these days? "I mean, I don't see colours, at all. We think it has something to do with the allergy to sunlight."

"Hakkai too? But he drives."

"We're colour-blind, not stupid. It's not like there's no other distinction to be made. Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"My passport says my hair and eyes are brown," Goku repeated. He unsheathed the machete, which had been lying on his side all along, Sanzo realised with surprise, and stared into its surface. "Hey, 's funny, in this light they look honey-like, more gold than brown. Must be the fire."

Sanzo leaned back, satisfied. He had suspected this was the case, though he knew that the scent, which his brain interpreted as colour, was not always an accurate representation of physical colouring.

"Why?"

Sanzo started. "Why what?"

"You said 'I thought so,' I wanna know why."

"Your smell is golden," Sanzo said after a moment's consideration. "I thought it suits you." Goku blushed, turning his eyes back to the book. "It wasn't a compliment."

"It sounded like one."

"It was a fact."

"You suck at being a boyfriend."

"I'm not anyone's boyfriend."

"Could have fooled me."

Sanzo narrowed his eyes. "I am not anyone's boyfriend," he repeated.

"So what, you're just gonna rip my throat out, drink my blood and not call the next day?" Goku sat up straight and glowered. "Screw that!"

"Right back at you."

"Oh, that's mature," Goku said. "How old are you again?"

"Older than you."

"Don't remind me. It's disturbin'."

"I'm not dead," Sanzo said. He was most definitely not dead, he thought as he watched Goku snort and stretch out again, his shirt exposing the ridge of his spine, the vertebrae covered with smooth skin. Sanzo longed to put his mouth there, lick the sweat pooling in the valley as Goku moaned and begged for more.

With any luck it wouldn't be long now.

XXXIX.

The New Year's Eve was a lovely day, which turned into a gorgeous night. The moon was full, lending its silver light to the snow. Goku stared out the window in wonder, watching the starry skies and the expanse of silvery snow and black trees beneath.

"Can we go out?" he asked, turning to the two vampires and a huge wolf on the couch.

"Why?" Sanzo asked.

"Because it's pretty, and I wanna."

"Sounds like a good enough reason," Hakkai said getting up from the couch. "Make sure you dress warmly."

"Yay!" Goku scampered to his room, fully aware he was acting like an excitable kid. He felt this was somehow allowed – he'd missed Christmas Day, too anxious about Sanzo to be excited, now he was just making up for it.

The view was well worth the needles jabbing at his throat. There's been no footprint marring the surface of the slopes, nothing breaking the down as far as he could see. It felt like they were the only people on Earth, up high in the cabin. The Rapture could come and take everyone else away and the four of them would still be there, alone, remote. Safe.

Well, not so much safe in his case, Goku thought grimly. If he was the last human left, there wouldn't be anything to stop Sanzo from following through with his notion of a tasty dessert. After all, what use were the rules, if there were no humans to hide from?

"It is very beautiful," Hakkai said, coming to stand next to him.

Goku beamed and then frowned. "Shouldn't ya put somethin' on?"

"I'm not cold," Hakkai said. The moonlight turned him into a marble statue, and the illusion was perfect, so long as the wind didn't tug at the shirt he was wearing.

"I'm freezing just by looking at you," Goku muttered. Damned vampires, all cold and unfeeling, he thought, burrowing his nose in the high collar of the jacket. It wasn't fair! He was freezing his ass off, and they were just standing there, cool as cucumbers.

Well, Gojyo was warm and furry, so he probably didn't count.

"Another year gone," Hakkai mused, and Goku felt the coldness creep behind him with an icicle and stab him in the back.

"Crap!" he yelled, loud enough so that his voice echoed from the pristine snowy fields. "Shit, fuck, goddamn!"

"What's wrong?" Sanzo asked, standing too close for comfort all of sudden.

"I forgot my projects," Goku said. He took a couple steps away from the vampire and tripped on the werewolf, who'd huddled behind him for that exact purpose. Goku fell into the snow with a surprised ioomph/i. He stayed like that, supine in the mound, looking at the stars, until a polite cough reminded him he was not alone and that he was in a middle of a freak out. "Right, right. I have projects due," he said. "On Monday."

"Oh dear," Hakkai said, exchanging a look with the Gojyo-wolf. "I suppose there's no way around it; we'll have to go back."

"I can go on my own," Goku protested. "I'm not a kid, it's not like there's not a train or whatever."

"Don't be silly." Hakkai smiled and Gojyo pawed a lump of ice into Goku's face. He got a muzzle full of snow for his trouble. "We'd be bored here without you," he said, and though Goku knew he was just being polite, it was still nice to hear.

XL.

Gojyo had barely time to yawn upon stepping out of the car, when Goku zoomed past him, backpack on his shoulder, yelling his thankyous and his goodbyes as he went. Hakkai shook his head and smiled. "He's an adorable boy," he said.

"Careful, you never know who's listening," Gojyo said, lighting a cigarette and waggling has eyebrows at Sanzo. Ha, he was a multitasking werewolf. He ought to get points for that. Combined with his points for hotness and awesome getting-along skills, he should be getting awards every other week.

"I didn't know it was a secret."

"I think it's less adorable and more hot, where Sanzo's concerned."

"I know where to find silver bullets," Sanzo said.

"I know where to find a machete," Hakkai countered.

"I'm so glad we're such good friends." Gojyo threw his arms around the other two, and moved towards the stairs.

"I'm going home," Sanzo said, twisting from Gojyo's hold. He picked up his bag from the trunk and, making use of the fact that it was close to midnight, leapt onto the nearest lamppost and, from there, onto a roof.

"I wish he wouldn't do that," Hakkai said. "One of these days someone will be watching, and that would be the end of the charade."

"It isn't like we won't be able to outrun the chase."

"I like the city."

"Yeah, I'm fond of it too. But it's not the only city on the planet."

"Might as well be," Hakkai said, staring into the mists with a faraway expression on his face. Hell, it had to be one of those nights, Gojyo thought. Stupid London.

"Let's maybe not mutilate any hookers tonight," he said, grabbing the rest of the luggage and walking inside. "You coming?"

"Pardon?"

"Look, you want any sex tonight, or would you rather stay here and be gloomy? 'Cause I'm telling you, it's either one, or the other."

"You don't like me when I'm gloomy?"

"I don't like gloomy sex. No offence," Gojyo said quickly, because he was hoping to get laid tonight, "but you're not fun when you're all dejected. You're too much like a puppy that's been kicked and then had his lollipop stolen."

"I was under the impression you were the puppy in this relationship."

"Hell no. I might be a mutt, a mongrel, a cur, but a puppy I ain't. Too old, see?"

"I'm glad." Hakkai smiled, to Gojyo's relief, his feral smile. "I find youngsters entirely disagreeable."

"Dunno, the kid would be might tasty."

"Tasty, perhaps. Arousing…" Hakkai pressed the length of his body against Gojyo's, "not so much."

To that Gojyo could say very little, save for "bedroom, now."

XLI.

"I have been thinking," Hakkai said later during the night. Next to him Gojyo turned onto his side and propped his head on his elbow.

"You've been thinking?" he asked, incredulous. "Fuck, I must be out of shape."

"Not just now," Hakkai clarified. "While we were in Glenshee."

"What were you thinking, oh mighty thinker?"

"Goku must be turned."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"No way!"

"There's only so long Sanzo can hold out," Hakkai pointed out. Oftentimes he would be accused of being inhuman, people found him so unfeeling and cold. Even Gojyo had called him a "friggin' Vulcan" at an early stage of their relationship. It was far from truth, of course. Hakkai felt, and he felt deeply. He chose to discard emotion when it came to facing life-changing decisions, because he knew there was much at stake if emotions run unchecked. He would give the heart its due, but it was not the decision-making organ. "He is not immune, and his control is far less than he'd like to imagine. Sooner or later he will try to hurt Goku."

"No, he won't," Gojyo said.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I have known him longer."

"Yeah, but you have issues with humanity. Forgive me, in turn," Gojyo leaned forward to kiss him, "but you couldn't have been sane while you were human, my dear psychopathic bastard, and the perspective of being inhuman hadn't helped you any."

"What are you saying?"

"Goku is safe from Sanzo, I'm reasonably sure. Not so sure about the rest of the world."

"What makes you so sure?" Hakkai asked.

"Sanzo loves him," Gojyo said and the simple phrase hit Hakkai like a hurricane hitting a vessel on the ocean. His mind lost all sense of direction, the helm, so certain of the course in other kinds of weather, now flapped uselessly on the waves.

"Excuse me?"

"This surprises you?"

"Yes," Hakkai said, for once not keen on concealing his emotional response.

"Why?"

"He's human! It shouldn't be possible, humans are food to us."

"Yes, you sure you want to pursue that train of thought?" Gojyo raised a brow. "Me, werewolf. You, vampire. Us, mortal enemies. Need I go on?"

"That's different."

"Like hell it is. Truth of the matter is, the first thing you ought to have done when you first saw me, was go for the throat. That would have been a proper vampiric response, at least that's the one I got from all other vamps I've ever met, and I am including Sanzo in that figure. You didn't."

"You interested me," Hakkai said. "You were the first werewolf I met!"

"Funny that. Why do you think there's so few?"

Hakkai fell silent. There was a picture to be painted with the crayons Gojyo pulled out of his box, and it was disturbingly different from the one he thought he saw. "Still, it is not the same."

"It is exactly the same."

"I never worried you wouldn't be able to hold your own against me. Goku has no chance."

"Because we've never had to feed Sanzo blood, to speed up the recovery of any vital body parts? Face it 'Kai – the kid is capable of feeding Sanzo his own balls, and he would, too. He's not gonna lie back and let himself be eaten, unless it's in the good way." Gojyo waggled his eyebrows and Hakkai had to smile.

"I see your point."

"I kinda think it's what holds Sanzo so fascinated. Sorta, because hell, I'm fascinated and I'm spoken for."

"That is curious," Hakkai said.

"And, I know you are too."

"You think so."

"I'm sure. Hell, the kid smells like the best dinner ever served, in the history of food. I'd be worried if you weren't drooling every time he was near."

"I do no such thing."

"Yeah, and I don't grow fur and fangs during full moon."

"You don't have to."

"What's your point?"

"What is yours?"

"I can't remember." Gojyo fell silent, and Hakkai took the time to watch him. He was not prone to tender moments of love, even when his werewolf was involved, but some moments had no other setting.

"If you are right," he said after a while, "then Goku must be turned."

"Somehow, I don't think it will be that simple."

"He does smell wonderful," Hakkai admitted. "It is almost painful to resist his scent. I'm not sure I will be able to indefinitely."

"Have faith."

"I have considerable control over my urges, if I say so myself. There are others, though. We may not be able to protect Goku forever."

"On the bright side, forever won't be longer than half a century, or so. And even then, older people aren't half as tasty as teens. So we're looking at maybe ten to twenty years of sentinel duty. It don't sound so bad."

"I wish you would consider my point of view."

"Sanzo won't have it, any more than you'd have my face changed."

"There is that." Hakkai fell silent, trying to imagine losing the ability to smell Gojyo, his every mood, every hint of emotion. He shuddered, and moved closer to the wonderful warmth the werewolf exuded. Thank god that was not even a remote possibility.


	11. Chapter 11

XLII.

Goku had made it. He hadn't slept, he'd only eaten when Hakkai'd knocked on his door and made him, but he had finished everything he had to do, with time enough to print it out and hand it in. And now he would sleep through the lecture, because damn it, he deserved his rest.

"Hey hey," said a girly voice straight into his ear.

"Go 'way," Goku muttered. "Sleep now."

"You okay?"

"Hi Pip." Goku opened an eye. "Sorry. I ain't slept in days."

"Done with the projects?"

"Yeah." A yawn. "It sucked, but I did it. Gimme my medal now."

"Don't have medals. I have an apple, though. Want an apple?"

"Dunno, has it caffeine?"

"Not a drop," said Pip, an advocate for Fairtrade vegetables and organic cotton.

"You're a bad, bad person," Goku said, taking the apple and biting into it. There was a satisfying crunch and an onslaught of juice onto his parched tongue. Pip had the best apples about her person, bless her kind heart.

"You love me."

"That's one way of looking at it."

"So, what are you doing later?"

"Sleeping, with any luck." Goku felt the bones of his mandible move apart enough for an elephant in a pink tutu. If yawning was a way to inhale more oxygen than normal breathing, then he must have just become flammable. "God, I am so dead," he whined. Pip patted his head.

"Welcome to the higher education."

Goku munched on the apple, letting the crunchy juiciness do away with the wall keeping him apart from reality. It turned out to be better that caffeine. He was almost done with the apple when it turned out the wall had been there for a reason. "My head hurts," he said, flopping back onto the desk.

"You don't look so bad," Pip said. "Except for the band-aid. What happened?"

"A vampire bit me," Goku said. He wondered how cool it was, he could give an honest answer and no one would believe it. World was such a peculiar place.

"Where didja find a vampire?" asked another guy. Goku squinted at the skull emblazoned across his chest and then upwards, to the curious face framed with greenish hair.

"They are all over the place," he said. True enough, Hakkai had said there's more of them. One that Goku heard of in Colombia, but what's South America with all the planes in the air?

"You've got to consider buying new razor every once in a while," Pip said. Both Goku and the guy whose name eluded his memory turned to her. "What? I probably know more about razor blades than you both," she said, poking Goku's cheek. "You need to shave, by the way!"

"Too tired. I might slit my throat by accident, and that would just be bad."

"I've seen you prance on fences, you aren't that clumsy," Pip said, rolling her eyes. Goku snickered into the desk. "You've gotta shave. You're so baby-faced, the stubble looks horribly out of place."

Goku grimaced. "You are terrible," he said, hiding his face in his arms.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way!" Pip threw her arms around him. Goku struggled to evade the tickling. "C'mon, you're adorable, you know that."

"I bloody well hope so," Goku muttered. When he looked up the kid with the skull was still staring at him. "Didja want something? Only I'm totally dead today, so don't expect much."

"I haven't figured you for the vampire-loving type," the guy said, seating himself beside Goku. "Zakuro."

"Believe me, it's news to me too." Goku held out his hand. "Goku."

"So which is it, Buffy, Blade, Underworld? Don't tell me it's Van Helsing." Zakuro grinned, sliding as low as possible, without having his arse lose the contact with the chair.

"Bela Lugosi," Goku said. "Ya can't resist a fellow in a cape and tuxedo."

Zakuro made an expression, which could only be described as a boggle. "That's ancient!"

"It's awesome. For the record, old man Van Helsing would totally kick Hugh Jackman's ass."

"You wish!"

"And Buffy would run laps around them both," Pip said, inspecting her nails.

Goku gave the statement due consideration. There was no flaw that he could spot. "True, but I still say Bela Lugosi is awesome," he said, and then the PhD in front of the lecture hall switched off the light and switched on the screen.

"Close the door, please," he said.

Goku groaned. Of all the days for this guy to be the one in charge of lecturing… he was gonna fall asleep and do something embarrassing, he just knew he would. "Poke me," he told Pip, "if I fall asleep."

"You got it," she said, her teeth flashing with a stray beam of light.

Goku nodded, propped his chin on his folded arms and slept. That is, listened. It was too bad he couldn't recall a word.

XLIII.

Sanzo had spent the morning sitting in the window of his apartment, staring off into space. There was something crispy in the air, the kind of big city crisp that had little to do with frost and everything to do with a million people breathing out at once. He'd been hungry; thankfully he'd stocked his fridge the day before, so there'd been no problem fetching a glass of blood, which he nursed for the better part of his brooding. He'd watched his reflection in the windowpane and had been forced to admit his expression was sour. He'd finished the glass at set it aside. He had no idea how Kougaji lived off animal blood all this time. It was vile, plain and simple. It offered sustenance, but not much past satisfying the bare needs.

The blood that was too little to live with and too much to die from inevitably turned his mind to Goku, which was how he found himself on the street opposite the building that housed Goku's classes. He was in luck; the lecture had just finished, letting out a stream of teenagers. Sanzo swallowed the drool, even before he smelled Goku among them. So much fresh, young blood he could be tearing into, and then, like a cherry atop the whipped cream, Goku appeared, a bouncing, smiling ball of golden and amber threads, bestowed with generosity on everything he'd been in contact with. Picking out his friends from the crowd was as easy as shooting sitting ducks.

Sanzo cursed himself for showing up anywhere near youngsters without a proper meal. His mouth was flooding with saliva at an alarming rate, and Goku was coming closer.

"Hello," he said when Goku levelled with the corner.

Goku jumped. "Jesus Christ on a cracker. The hell are you doing here?"

"Standing."

"Smart ass. I mean, what for?"

"I was waiting for you."

"That's nice," Goku said, taking a step back. "Why?"

"I'm hungry," Sanzo confessed and watched Goku's face crumble in panic. He allowed it for a few moments, then took pity on the boy. "I had some today. It was sufficient."

"So, you ain't gonna try and kill me?"

"I won't," Sanzo said. He closed the distance between them, staring deep into Goku's eyes. "I will not let you come to harm."

"Yeah, okay," Goku said. "It's nice. But I'm really tired. I need sleep."

He started walking. Sanzo forced himself to match his pace, though it wasn't easy, when his preferred method of getting around the city was leaping from building to building. Then they stopped and Sanzo, on the verge of asking the purpose of the pause, opened his mouth, before he realised it was a bus stop.

"You got cash?" Goku asked. "I've a travelcard, but you're gonna need a ticket."

Sanzo stared at him and started checking his pockets. He came up with a tenner, which he held up for inspection. "Never mind," Goku said. The bus arrived and Goku stepped on, gesturing at Sanzo to follow. He showed the pass to the driver and dropped a couple of coins in the tray. "For him," Goku said, nodding in Sanzo's direction.

Sanzo supposed it must be strange, that he hadn't been on a bus in his life. He said as much to Goku, which earned him an incredulous look. "What, seriously?"

"Why would I lie?"

"Wow. I probably should have expected this. What kinda car do you have?"

"I don't drive."

"At all?"

"I don't have a licence," Sanzo said. This was only a little embarrassing. He had tried, in the fifties, but the purpose of speed limits eluded him and the examiner felt he was a danger to the general public. To this day Sanzo was unsure how Hakkai passed his tests. True, these days the internal combustion engine could go faster than a vampire could run, but those speeds were hard to reach within city limits. Not enough room, for one.

"Welcome to the club. I never had a car, so I figured what's the point? Not that it wouldn't be nice, mind. Driving is kinda cool."

"I could buy you a car," Sanzo said, without thinking. Goku awarded him a long look.

"I don't need a car," Goku said. He was angry. Sanzo felt like he should know why that was. "And I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity," Sanzo said.

"Then what is it? You wanna own me? You figure if ya buy me something expensive I'll let you have at my neck?

"Of course not!"

"See, this I can't figure out. Whatcha want with me in the first place? It ain't like I'm so very smart and original. You gave up on trying to eat me, unless it tastes best by surprise and I'm doomed anyhow. Whatcha want from me, Sanzo?" Goku asked.

Sanzo had no idea. He looked out the window, staring at the passing cars in silence. At his side Goku let out a huff and pressed his forehead against the cold glass.

"I don't wanna be something to buy," he said.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, I hope so. Else I'd be kickin' you arse onto the curb, see?"

"As if."

"I could so kick your arse," Goku said, grinning.

Sanzo smiled in response, because it was hard to stay solemn in the face of the happiness Goku exuded. "You wish."

"Could too! Gimme a fryin' pan and you're toast."

"That was a miscalculation on my part."

"I still kicked your butt!"

"It won't happen again."

"You keep telling yourself that," Goku leaned towards him when the bus veered, and didn't move away.

"How's your neck?" Sanzo asked quietly. A needless question, for he could smell that the band-aid was there for show rather than out of need. The skin mended to a satisfactory degree, all that remained was a scab that would fall off on its own, in a matter of days.

"Ah, fine. I mostly keep the plaster on so that I don't scratch at it."

"Good choice," Sanzo said. It would have been very difficult to resist, had Goku been wandering around with bloody scratches on his neck.

The bus stopped at an intersection and Goku pressed a button on the pole. "My stop is next," he explained. "This lets the driver know I want off." Sanzo nodded and filed the piece of information away, though it wasn't like the knowledge was going to come in handy.

He followed Goku off the bus and into the building. He followed him up the stairs and to the door of number nine, at which point Goku turned to look at him. "Okay, this was nice, thank you. I'm sorry, but I really need some sleep now."

"I don't mind."

"Cool. See you tomorrow? We could grab a coffee or something."

"Sounds fine," Sanzo said.

"Well, goodnight then."

Sanzo was about to protest, but Goku shut the door in his face. Sanzo was left alone the in corridor, staring at the tarnished wood. The little bastard had closed the door in his face!

XLIV.

Sanzo slammed the door on his way in to the apartment. Gojyo didn't move from his spot on the couch. Door slamming, when it came to Sanzo, was a poor indication of emotional state – he did it so often, Hakkai contemplated installing a sliding screen.

"That little bastard," Sanzo groused, falling onto the couch.

"What did he do?" Gojyo asked, opening an eye. Far as he could tell, Goku had fallen into bed as he stood, unharmed and content. No signs of struggle or emotional distress.

"He closed the fucking door in my face!"

"Yes, see this is called a boundary. Learn to respect it."

"Says you," Sanzo huffed.

"Hey, I am the youngest, which means my insight into the human psyche is freshest."

"You have never been human," Sanzo pointed out.

"No, but I have less angst than you. Hell, I have less angst than you on happy pills, so there."

"What's your point?"

"He's what, twenty? He's a kid. Give him some space. He's not gonna want to spend every waking hour in your esteemed company."

Sanzo narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

"For one thing, you're a dick. For another, if he were so clingy, when would you brood?" Gojyo watched Sanzo consider that in turn. He would fall prey to his logic, even despite the urge – and here Gojyo was guessing – to stand guard and make sure no one ever came close to the kid.

"What am I supposed to do, then?"

"Dunno. Get another hobby. Try painting a picture. Learn to drive. Knit, maybe crochet. Take up carpentry, you could use a new coffin."

"I don't know why I bother talking to you," Sanzo said.

"Because I'm awesome, and let's face it, Hakkai's understanding of human nature is more hunter-y than a fellow Joe Average. Obviously, not a good wooing tactic in this day and age." Sanzo observed him through narrowed eyes. Gojyo offered him a grin in return, partly because he knew it would be annoying.

He had wondered, in the beginning of his admission to the small coven, how was it that vampires never took over the Earth. While intelligence was not required to become a bloodsucker, natural selection was at work. The stupid didn't live long enough to amount to much, and the ones that had the brain cells to rub together had the benefit of experience. They could multiply faster than bunnies and the only way to reliably kill them was by a thorough hacking. It wasn't like the sun was much of a deterrent either. All an older vampire required for relative comfort were sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat and long-sleeved garments. True, this was a skill that took a couple decades to come into (Hakkai tried explaining, once – apparently, this was a case of self-control and concentration, hence Sanzo's nasty burns when Goku stabbed his eye out), but once acquired, served well. So, what was the reason humanity wasn't yet out on the grazing fields, waiting for the vampires to decide they want a drink?

It had taken a couple years of careful observation before finally Gojyo arrived at a conclusion: it was because the vampires suffered from solipsism. In all fairness, they grew out of it, to a degree, and when they did return to balance they recognised themselves for what they were: parasites, preying on humanity. Parasite could not take control; it was hardwired into the very nature of things. It was kinda sad, all things considered, but Gojyo supposed that was how Mother Nature, the magnificent bitch that she was, made sure the vampires stayed in line.

"Look, the kid likes you. I know that, you know that, he knows that, which is probably most important. He's a little stupid when it comes to self-preservation, which works out in your favour. If he had half a brain, he'd move to Cairo, or some other place you bloodsuckers found repelling."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Sanzo asked, in a rare show of helplessness. Gojyo sat up, suddenly uncertain. It wasn't often he got to dispense advice.

"Well, stalking don't seem like such a good idea, if you want advice from me," he said, scratching his head. "Look, the kid don't understand what it means, exactly, that you can smell him coming from a mile away. He's got no way to get it. Don't show up at random where he is," Sanzo winced at that, which told Gojyo everything he needed to know about the day, "don't follow him, for god's sake. Try to keep up the illusion you are at least somewhat human."

"How? By behaving like you?"

"Oh God, please no. That would be very disturbing."

"I haven't been human for far longer than you," Sanzo said. He leaned back in his chair and directed his gaze at the ceiling.

"Did it somehow escape your attention that I sometimes turn into a large wolf?" Gojyo asked. "Seriously? I know you've only seen me walk out the room humanoid and in canine, but I figured you brighter than Lois Lane."

"What?"

"I," Gojyo said slowly, in case that helped Sanzo to understand better, "have never been human. God damn it, you know that. I grant you, I've only been able to shift once adolescence had passed, but I have always known I would be able to. Always had issues with smelling more than a human should, come to think of it. Being a werewolf in a locker room sucked, let me tell you."

"Then how come you're the one to give me advice?"

"What, you wanted Hakkai to give you relationship advice?"

"… no."

"There you go, then."

XLV.

Once Hakkai had found peace in the church of Saint Katherine. He'd developed a habit of returning there, whenever he sought peace. He was not sentimental. Whatever respects he paid, he didn't let them overshadow his present life. He visited the building when he needed insight, as there were few places as conducive to thought as an empty church. Here, Hakkai could sit in a pew for hours on end, staring at the stained glass, allowing his mind to wander. Most times he trusted that, given enough time, he would come by a solution. Most times he was right.

This one time, however, was different. He had thought he had had the solution in his hands, before Gojyo pointed out the inherent flaw in his reasoning.

He had imagined it would be best to include Goku in their tiny commune, sooner rather than later. However, Goku was human, and to take that away may well ruin whatever connection he'd forged with Sanzo. On the other hand, there was no doubt that his very humanity was going to rip apart the tentative bond before long. He would grow old before Sanzo had the chance to truly embrace the relationship. Hakkai knew from personal experience that it took a tremendous effort for a vampire to develop a genuine attachment. Decades, even. He had been with Gojyo almost half a century and only now was he beginning to appreciate the connection they shared in all its glory. Such was the problem with immortality: the mind took time to grow into what the brain's tissue had known all along. Though he had been acquainted with only a few other vampires, he knew that turning caused internal struggles for all – the human mind at first found the impulses of its new nature abhorrent, and when it, at long last, came to accept them as its own nature, the vampire came to realise that in the mean time he had outgrown the childish need for power. Wasn't power a way of living forever, after all? Hakkai had long suspected it was a defence the natural world instilled into their own heads, against the creatures that could, with little effort, destroy humanity. It came as a surprise that humans escaped with something as banal as empathy, which was in many cases defective, anyway.

There was the concern that a vampire without a strong enough turmoil would cause untold damage for the few who were keen on quiet living, but in such a case others would step in to neutralise the threat. There was no official governing body. There had never been the need for one.

Hakkai smiled at the saint staring at him from the stained glass. He sat in the empty church, admiring the play of light on the interior. It had been a bright day in the late nineteenth century, when he'd come to the church, blood staining his hands and his clothes, seeking whatever peace he could be granted. There was none. Instead he had met his saviour, glaringly bright in the halo of the rosette window.


	12. Chapter 12

XLVI.

"Where are we going?" Goku asked, nearly running to keep up with Sanzo's pace. "And slow the hell down!" Sanzo didn't apologise, but he did slow down. Gojyo had said this would take a while, for Sanzo to get used to normal pace of walking. He was used to travelling by means unavailable or inadvisable to humans, the werewolf had said. Goku understood his plight, he was used to a light jog whenever he wanted to get somewhere, which got him in all kinds of trouble with Pip, but this running to keep up with Sanzo thing was ridiculous. Goku wondered how come he never noticed Sanzo's speedy walking back when he didn't know what Sanzo was.

It was close to a couple months since Christmas, during which time Sanzo had acquired his schedule and started walking him home from school and work. Goku had to admit, aside from the mild creepy factor (dude, Sanzo was damn near everywhere! Goku started having thoughts about carrying the machete around), it was kinda sweet. Plus, when Goku told him to go to hell, Sanzo mostly went.

"Where are we going?" Goku asked again.

"Dinner."

"Yeah, I know that. Where?"

"Kensington High Street."

Goku stopped and gawked at Sanzo. "Okay, stop right there," he called.

Sanzo stopped and turned his head. "What?"

"We are so not eating on Kensington High Street. You can just forget it."

"Why not? They serve adequate food."

"Adequate is what they serve in McDonalds. Screw you and your gourmet tastes." Goku wondered if there was a place within city limits that served a tall glass of chilled A positive.

"What do you want then? Cook?"

"Yes!"

Sanzo turned to face him and stared, surprised. "You want to cook?"

"Or order Chinese, whichever, really."

"I rarely eat normal food."

"I heard. C'mon, we can go back to my apartment, I could cook something, maybe?" Goku scratched the back of his head.

"Is this about money again?"

"Kinda."

"It's no big deal."

"It is a big deal! Besides, it's not the money, it's me." Goku spread his arms and turned on the balls of his feet for Sanzo to inspect his attire. "Do I look like I belong in those fancy restaurants?"

Sanzo stared at him, clearly out of his depth. Goku remembered this was because Gojyo was in charge of picking their wardrobe, on account of the vision impairment the vampires had. Gojyo made the purchases with all the means available to him, which was plenty. Goku, though fashion wasn't his forte, made a cautious estimate that Sanzo's shirt alone had cost more than the clothes he had on his back, jacket and shoes included.

That, and the fact Goku dressed like a teen, cargo pants, hoodies – the works – meant it would take a bribe to get him into any food establishment on Kensington High Street.

"What's your point?"

"I mean," Goku said as they started walking again, "you're the fellow who's got cape and tuxedo in the job description. I fix stuff. Like toasters, or vacuum cleaners. Your people hire people like me to do stuff for them!"

"I don't have people."

"You know what I mean!"

"Fine. What do you want to eat?"

"Dunno. Let's get take away and go to my apartment? I have a whole shelf of Dracula movies."

"We are not watching Bela Lugosi again."

"C'mon, he's fantastic."

"He's an old guy with plastic teeth."

"You oughta be happy I'm into elderly guys, else where would you be?"

"I'm not elderly!"

"Given your age I kinda feel like a necrophile."

"Did Gojyo let you at the word-a-day calendar again?"

"Not my fault you're so old and cranky."

"I'm…" Sanzo trailed off and slowed in his step as he did so. "I've stopped counting," he admitted. "When I hit a hundred. I wasn't sure what to count, at first, and then it was pointless."

"I see how that could be depressin'." Goku thought about taking Sanzo's hand, but in the end didn't. Sanzo wasn't eager for physical contact, unless it was tame, lame kissing. Goku was starting to feel like the favoured doll of a ten-year-old. It was a little upsetting. For all Sanzo's issues with being a big, bad, scary vampire, Goku was barely out of puberty and, damn it, kids his age had needs that close-mouthed kisses wouldn't satisfy. This whole affair was getting very frustrating.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Goku asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"That I'm so much younger?"

Sanzo gave him a long look, and smiled. Goku's heart hammered in his chest. Sanzo was beautiful, not merely handsome or good-looking. He never got enough sunlight (no duh, Goku thought in the back of his head), but that worked well with his naturally fair colouring. His eyes though, they were what made his face most memorable. Despite his pale complexion his eyes were a very curious variation on the purple theme, dark and often narrowed in a frown. Plus, he had a damned fine rear view.

"You're interesting," Sanzo said, interrupting Goku's musings. "I can't explain it well enough. There are no words. I just don't think I got old the way people do, so no, it doesn't bother me."

"Strangely enough, that makes sense ta me." Either that, the little voice in the back of Goku's head said, or you don't wanna think too hard about it. Goku promptly told it to shut up and stop over-analyzing. "So, how about that Chinese?"

XLVII.

Sanzo had deliberately provoked another minor spat when they'd exited the Sichuan place, each with a bag of steaming food. This was because the one thing he didn't want to do was watch Goku giggle at a vampire in a cape. For one thing, this usually prompted questions of whether Sanzo ever wore a tuxedo to a meal, and while Sanzo would admit to wearing a tuxedo, capes were a "No fucking way." There was also that it wasn't healthy for Goku to have too much fun with vampire movies. The more he laughed the less afraid he'd become, and that was just bad. It must have been bad, right?

"Okay, fine!" Goku had said, throwing one arm into the air. "Where do we go, then?"

"My apartment is close."

"Is it a basement with coffins?"

It wasn't. Goku's mouth opened when they stepped out of the elevator and into the open living area of Sanzo's studio, with a view that encompassed the City of London. "It's amazing!" he said, dropping the food on the cupboard and moving to stand by the window. "Wait, it's sunny as hell. How do you live in a place that's sunny as hell?"

"I have a bedroom." Sanzo pointed to the door right by the entrance. "It's got no windows whatsoever."

"That's depressing."

"Not so depressing when the sun can give you fatal sunburn."

"I guess," Goku said. His stomach rumbled at the same time. "Can we eat now?"

They ate, that is to say Goku ate and Sanzo chewed his way through a portion of egg-fried rice, which he washed down with a glass of cow's blood. To his surprise it didn't taste half-bad when with every breath he could inhale Goku. It wasn't a substitute for drinking ihis/i blood, but it was enough. For now.

They didn't bother with chairs, on Goku's insistence, not when the carpet was soft and the view too awesome to ruin it by sitting away from the vantage point. Sanzo snorted when he was presented with this reasoning, but didn't argue. The sky cleared as they walked and now the afternoon was at its best; the sky was blue and the sun, past its peak, spilled liquid light onto the city below.

"So anyway," Goku started swallowing the last of his pork, "how does it work?"

"How does what work?"

"You not seeing any colours thing."

"I don't see any colours. It's that simple."

"But you said I look goldish, back in the mountains."

"It was more of a pale yellow then."

"Yeah, that. How does that work?"

"How should I know? I'm not a scientist."

"You could at least try explaining."

Sanzo sighed. He got up and started rummaging through the cabinets, coming up with a pack of pencils and a sketching pad. "This is idiotic," he said, seating himself back in the shadow next to the window. "You're going to explain the colours to me." Sanzo pushed the box in Goku direction.

"But they are labelled," Goku said, picking up one. Sanzo saw it was marked as green. "This is green. Wait, no, this is 'the other green,'" he read, turning the pencil over in his hands.

"Gojyo's idea of an amusing gift. I'm going to need more than just 'green' to work with."

"Like what? And what's wrong with green?"

"What are you, blind and stupid? There're about a million shades of green."

"And you know that, why? You're supposed to be colour-blind!"

"I wasn't always a vampire."

"What were you back then?" Goku asked, leaning forward like an eager child. "Some kinda artist?"

"I was studying to be a minister."

Goku said nothing, but by the way his mouth opened Sanzo could tell this was something of a shock.

"I was born to a minister," Sanzo said. "It seemed like a natural thing to do. I was an only child."

"Wow," Goku said quietly. "So when did you learn how to draw?"

Sanzo shrugged. "It was useful. What kinds of yellows are there?"

"There is yellow, bright yellow, yellowish and orange-y yellow."

"That is fucking useful." Damn that werewolf.

"Right, right. Okay. This one," Goku said, holding up the one marked as yellowish, "is kinda brown. Only not. It's a little like clean brass."

"It will do," Sanzo said, and started sketching. No one had been more surprised than he was when he picked up a pencil one day and, half an hour later, presented a convincing, if monochromatic, likeness of the stupid wolf. Now a picture of Goku was coming alive under his fingertips, colourless to his eyes, but with any luck would convey the way Sanzo perceived humans.

"This one is red, like the roses. The really pretty, dark ones," Goku said when Sanzo asked for a red pencil. "This one is more orange. Not carrot orange though, tomato maybe?"

"The second one," Sanzo said. From time to time he would look up, to confirm that the line of Goku's jaw was indeed as curved as he remembered. Every single time he'd find Goku looking at him, his bright eyes open wide, his posture so completely relaxed Sanzo contemplated hitting him over the head.

"You are such a bloody moron," he said at last, slamming the sketchpad onto the floor.

"What the hell?"

"Didn't you notice?" Sanzo grinned and let his fangs slip out of his gums. "You're alone here. There's no one to hear you scream. The studio takes up the whole floor and the building was built to be as soundproof as possible."

"The guard saw me," Goku said. He sat back on his haunches, but otherwise didn't move back, even when Sanzo moved out of the shadows so that their noses almost touched.

"I could kill you," Sanzo hissed, "and no one would know." The sun assaulted his skin, but he resisted its anger. He was strong now; a few hours wouldn't be a problem in this light.

"You wouldn't."

"How do you know? For all you know I do this every fucking week."

Goku looked away, careless of the way the movement exposed his neck. "You wouldn't hurt me," he insisted.

Sanzo took a deep breath. "Your trust may be misplaced. I'm a monster, after all. I feed on blood of humans."

"You said you wouldn't hurt me," Goku repeated, stubbornly, and Sanzo felt his fingers twitch towards the sketchpad. Shit, he should slam it into Goku's stupid head a couple of times, until he learned not to trust everyone who gave him food and a smile.

"I almost killed you once," he said. "Just because you cut yourself with a razor. Do you know how good you tasted? How much I didn't want to stop, how much I wanted more of you? All of you?"

"I stabbed you in the eye." Goku held up a chopstick. Sanzo had no reply to that. Instead he watched, unmoving, as Goku set the utensil aside and brought his hand to Sanzo's face. His fingertips slid from the brow onto the cheekbones, and lower, tracing the contour of Sanzo's nose, his upper lip, and finally the extra row of teeth. "It's kinda awkward," Goku whispered, the pads of his fingers almost, but not quite, in Sanzo's mouth. They were so close Sanzo tasted the salt in his sweat and yet too far for a fang to draw blood.

Goku licked his lips and Sanzo, almost unconsciously, did the same. His tongue swiped at Goku's fingertips, even as his hand shot up to grip Goku's wrist. "Be careful," Sanzo whispered, willing his fangs away, "they are very sharp."

He moved closer as Goku rose to his knees. He knew this was a very bad idea, of course he did. It didn't stop him from kissing Goku, like he'd been dying to kiss him these past months. The kiss was deep and sweeter than he would have imagined, tainted by neither a secret, nor fear. Sanzo lost himself in that kiss, for the first time in a lifetime.

XLVIII.

"What the fuck?" Gojyo asked when the open door revealed Goku, timid and embarrassed on the threshold. "Oh god, please tell me you're not here for the birds and bees."

"I never got the birds and bees, actually. Why is it birds and bees? I mean, bees are insects, it's not like they copulate, right?"

"Your biology is lacking."

"Whatever. It's drones that have sex, even I know that."

"Did you just come in here to discuss entomology? I gotta tell you, there's a whole bunch of subjects I know more about. Hell, ask me about sex, I know plenty about that."

Goku flushed and looked away. "I don't need advice. I just wanna talk to someone who's normal, you know?"

"What do I gotta do, tattoo 'hell, I'm a werewolf' on my forehead? Right next to where it says 'Hi, I care about your problems, talk to me if ya need advice,' that's be a great spot."

"I don't think it would fit." Goku gave him a fond stare and Gojyo deflated. It was really hard to resist a sweet kid who liked you. It was right up there with kicking kittens and eating puppies – things Hakkai did when they required doing. Sure, you could, it was no problem, but… "You're easy to talk to," Goku added, and Gojyo knew he'd lost.

"That makes me feel better. Whatcha want?"

"It's about Sanzo," Goku said, careful not to meet Gojyo's eyes.

"Holy shit, seriously?"

"Seriously what?"

"Did you finally do it? God, please say yes," Gojyo said, though he knew the answer was no. He would have smelled it. "Sanzo needs to get laid, like ten years ago."

"No, we didn't," Goku said. He was still staring out the window. Gojyo gave it a glance, just in case there was a naked babe there. There wasn't.

"So what's the problem? And please, keep the details to yourself. I wanna know Sanzo had sex, but I don't particularly want to imagine it."

"Why not? He's hot."

Fuck, Gojyo thought, slapping his forehead. Way to forget the most crucial characteristic of the human race – the "what does this button that says 'do not ever press' do" impulse. "Yeah, but I'm kinda involved with his best chum. I rather not explain I'm having thoughts. It could get ugly."

"Yeah."

"So what is it?" Gojyo asked, flopping onto the couch.

"Well," Goku started, and reddened again. "I think I might be a little sick."

"Fucking hell. If this is about the strange new feelings and what's happening to my body, then go to hell and don't come back until you've talked to Hakkai."

"No! I mean. We kinda snogged a little," Goku blurted out at last. "He's really creepy! Half the time he was telling how nice it was to drink my blood and such."

"Ah," Gojyo said, grinning. There it was, out in the open at last.

"I just…" Goku went a little more red.

"You ain't sick for finding that hot."

"What? No! I mean-- Yes, but-- huh?"

"That's what's been worrying you," Gojyo said, throwing his legs over the armrest of the couch. It wobbled. It hadn't been the same since Sanzo'd broken it. "First of all, dude, relax. We all have our little kinks, nobody's judging."

"You call that a little kink?"

"Am I the only one who paid attention when you stabbed the guy in the eye when he tried to literally eat you up? There's nothing wrong with you, trust me. Well, nothing that ain't wrong with the rest of us, except for the living longer and being basically cannibals."

"I don't know if that's supposed to make me feel better," Goku said.

"I'd take what I can get, if I were you."

XLIX.

It was easy, Hakkai found, to get things done, when one had funds and a mind keen enough to avoid hoaxes.

"This is all?" he asked upon being presented the results of his current quest for information.

"Yeah. It ain't a lot, but I swear, that's all there was," Cook said, fingers drumming nervously against his forearms. Hakkai glanced inside the folder. There was very little inside, but he hadn't been expecting wonders.

"Thank you. You've been very helpful," he said, handing over an envelope of cash.

"Thanks Mr Gonou. Any time." The boy called himself Cook, for reasons Hakkai didn't care to speculate on. He was quite resourceful with acquiring information, which was a skill that Hakkai had a use for, on occasion. He lived in the West End, in a cellar that, despite the lack of natural light, had a very cosy feeling to it. He was reasonably priced and discreet, asked little questions, provided big answers and made sure he didn't venture into the illegal side of the business. The grey area suited him fine, kept him invisible. Hakkai appreciated that.

He studied the folder on the way home. There was a copy of a birth certificate – Goku Son, born in 1990, no surprises. There were quite a few places of residence on record, easily explained by the father's work. Both parents killed in a car accident, 2006. Son was fostered by a distant relative from then on; no trouble was reported. Average school record, no history of employment, but that was to be expected. Goku didn't officially work, even now. The record ended with Goku's arrival in London, with all his paperwork.

Hakkai wasn't sure what he hoped for, but he knew it wasn't a few pages of emptiness. He'd known Goku didn't have a wide circle of friends, his scent had told him that. But this… Goku had lead a solitary life, there was nothing tying him down to anywhere. Up until fate had taken him to London and into the welcoming arms of a coven of vampires.

Hakkai burned the folder in a trashcan on his way home. It wasn't a wonder, for a child so alone, to forge connections whenever and however possible, even at the risk of his life. Why shouldn't he? Hakkai thought wryly. He had very little to lose.


	13. Chapter 13

L.

March was pulling all the favours it could get, amassing all the sunny afternoons of the year into a single fortnight. Of course, that meant Goku's dates with Sanzo could no longer include walking, but were instead limited to staying in one place and talking. Or kissing. Kissing was nice. Goku smiled to himself, for the umpteenth time reliving the snogging sessions.

"What's gotten you so blissed out?" Pip asked.

"Nothing."

"Zakuro's having a party, he told me to tell you. A week from Saturday."

"Okay…" Goku wasn't sure how to take it. His partying experience was limited and most often awkward. He got to know only a few people in each school, and they weren't party animals. "Um. Does this mean I'm invited?"

"Yes, doofus," Pip said, messing up his already untidy hair. "You're invited. Zak said he forgot when he talked to you. Expect a text, too, when he remembers."

"I don't have a mobile."

"How are you even alive?"

"Dunno. It never came up."

"Anyway. What's gotten you so blissed out?"

Goku reddened. He'd been hoping she'd abandon that train of thought. "Nothing! I swear!"

Pip's eyes narrowed. "What is it?" she asked, poking Goku's chest. "I want some. I can't get any, unless you tell me what it is!"

"'s my boyfriend." Goku relished the word. Sanzo still sizzled when it was mentioned, but even he could no longer deny that what they had was an informal relationship, which made them boyfriends. "Things's been really cool."

"Oh," Pip said, and it was such a dejected syllable Goku felt a momentary stab of panic. He hadn't figured this would be a problem, not with Pip, of all people.

"This… bothers you?"

"Well, yes. Are you completely gay?"

"As opposed to what?"

"Bisexual, for one."

Goku scratched his head. "Dunno, can I think about it?"

"You have to think about it?"

"Yeah! I mean, I never did, so," but Pip was already looking around. Goku followed her gaze. They'd been slow coming out of class, so most of the crowds were gone, leaving them, and a few others, alone in the courtyard. No one was looking their way. Goku turned back to Pip, only instead of looking at her face he found he was staring at her breasts, cushioned in a powder blue bra.

Goku made a sound that, on a scale of "what" to "GARRRGHHH" fell at about a third of the distance, on account of how quiet it was. His feet whirled him in place while his head tried to find balance. It was not unlike trying to flatten the surface of water in a glass, standing on one hand on a railing that was being heated from below. "Are you crazy?" he hissed when Pip giggled.

"Nah. Figured this would be quicker."

"Quicker than what?"

"Than you having to think about it. So, you have an answer for me yet?"

"Answer? What?"

"I am not stripping," Pip said, tapping her foot on the floor. "Are you completely turned off by tits, or not?"

"Not?"

"Jolly good then. Who's the boyfriend? Can I meet him?"

"Heh. I dunno, he's a bit strange," Goku said. He'd have to make a note, in the event these two ever met, Pip was under no circumstances be allowed to question anyone's sexuality. It might end bloody.

He waved Pip goodbye when they reached a corner and headed home. It was a good afternoon. Classes came and went, requiring little involvement on his part, and now he was headed home, to see Sanzo.

His next thought was going to be "life was good," but as it were, before he got round to thinking it, a hand wrapped around his mouth and pulled him into an open door and down a flight of stairs. Goku smelled moss and misuse of property. Fuck, his head supplied, this was where people come to die. Then, just like that, the hand was gone and he reached for the wall, plastering his back to it.

The man was a surprise. Unlike the bum Goku was expecting he saw – holy hell – a suit. The man wore a bright silk scarf around his neck and a pair of large sunglasses on his face. Nothing was done to hide the razor-sharp fangs, which hid his maxillary teeth.

"He was right," he breathed. "You are a wonder."

Goku had no chance at responding. Thankfully, his hands thought quicker than his brain, for while the attack was too swift for human muscles to follow, the moment that he was given beforehand was enough for his fingers to close around the butterfly knife in his pocket.

The vampire staggered backwards, the handle of the knife protruding from the underside of his jaw, and before he got his bearings Goku was out of the cellar, running in the afternoon sun.

Why the hell was this happening to him, he asked himself, why the hell now?

He crossed the street, mindless of a bus' screeching tyres. He wasn't far from home now – Hakkai or Gojyo would be there, he'd be safe with them. The building had just come into view when Goku was swept of his feet and thrown into a nearby wall, which turned out to be a half-open door. Goku tumbled down the short staircase coming up on one knee in a dark musty cellar.

"Impressive," the vampire rasped, the voice distorted by the wound. Goku staggered to his feet, trying to catch his breath. There were dark spots whirling before his eyes. "Most impressive."

"Screw you, Darth," Goku said. Fuck, the freak had his knife. It was little consolation that he'd returned it right away, when he did it by slamming it into the wall so hard, the point stuck between the bricks. Goku's breath hitched. The knife passed right by his face.

"Ah," the vampire muttered, suddenly a breath away from Goku. One of his hands was on Goku's neck, pressing into his windpipe. The other grabbed the knife.

Goku tried to scream, but the hand on his throat choked the sound down. Tears stung at his eyelids when the vampire slashed into his exposed wrist.

"Don't cry, little boy," the vampire said into his ear. "It's all going to be just fine…" He brought his own wrist to his mouth and bit down, drawing blood.

Goku's mouth opened in another silent scream, when the vampire pressed their hands together. It burned, like acid was spilling onto his skin. He opened his eyes and saw the mouth, rows of gleaming teeth, over his face, and clenched his eyes shut again.

Then, as if the wind blew it away, the pressure was gone, though the burning in his hand didn't cease. Goku felt air fill his lungs as he slid down the wall. "Sanzo," he whispered.

Sanzo had the strange vampire by the throat, holding him above the concrete. Faster than the human eye could follow he darted to the wall, slamming the vampire's skull into the bricks. Goku heard a sickening crunch and threw his arms over his head. It didn't help much. He still heard the whines and half-screams the vampire let out, the crunch of bones being broken, of body being torn open. When it stopped, when all the sounds had quieted, Goku felt his hands being lifted away from his head. He didn't dare open his eyes.

"It's okay," Sanzo said. "He's dead."

Judging by the sounds, Goku wanted to say, he was worse than dead. He said nothing though. He tried, but nothing past a whimper would escape his mouth.

"Shit," Sanzo muttered over his head, wrapping an arm around Goku's back so that Goku's face was hidden in the crook of his neck. "Fuck, damn the fucker."

Wet heat took hold of Goku's slashed wrist. Goku opened his eyes in alarm. Sanzo was sucking on the cut. "Wait," he tried to say, but Sanzo pushed his other hand away and held fast. "Stop it!" Goku cried finally and at last Sanzo let go. "Get away from me."

"Sit still," Sanzo said. He turned and Goku saw – oh god no – the remains of the other vampire, splattered all over the corner. "It's fine. Don't look."

It was strange, but Goku didn't even feel dizzy. His mind had settled and now his insides felt calm, like a lake full of sleeping, tentacled monsters. In the clarity, the tones of a number being punched into a mobile phone were loud enough to rattle mountains in their foundations.

"Hakkai?" Sanzo said, once again cradling Goku's head against his chest. "There's a situation."

Goku listened to the address being rattled out and then silence. He felt Sanzo's gaze boring into the top of his head with the intensity of a drill. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fucking not okay! A vampire had just tried to kill me!"

"You should be used to it by now."

"Fuck you, dickhead! I ain't ever going to get used to it," Goku moaned, clenching his teeth. He could smell blood on Sanzo's shirt.

"Don't move your arm too much," Sanzo said. "The skin is broken. It's hard for me to resist. Are you well enough to be moved?"

"I'm not an invalid, I can walk."

"No."

"Fuck you," Goku said, pushing at Sanzo and standing. He kept his eyes closed and took a step forward. The gravel crunched under his shoe and Goku grit his teeth – gravel, it was just gravel, nothing but gravel and plastic or something – and took another step.

"You don't want his phalanges all over you," Sanzo said, sweeping Goku off his feet.

"Thanks so much," Goku said, sinking into Sanzo's hold with gratitude he hoped he wasn't showing. Thankfully, home was close.

LI.

"Oh fuck," Gojyo said, when they arrived at the cellar. "Sanzo wasn't kidding." The unfortunate sod who'd attacked Goku had been torn into pieces for his crime. Sanzo didn't go easy on the fucker. There was blood on the floor, the ceiling and the walls; enough of it to indicate the head went last, or close to last. Getting on Sanzo's bad side was a bad, bad idea, Gojyo thought. Not like it was a particular revelation, but still. Bad idea.

"I can't say I feel sorry for this person," Hakkai countered, handing Gojyo a plastic bag. "Do you smell that?"

"Goku's blood, yeah. Hell, I would have been just as thorough. This is a bright day, there's no telling who'd seen the scuffle."

"Very few people have reason to venture here." Hakkai sniffed the air. "No one in the past month, that's for sure." He moved towards the wall, to take the vampire's head off a nail. "Thankfully."

"Where the fuck did he come from?" Gojyo collected the bigger bits and stuffed them into the bag. Okay, Goku wasn't exactly living under lock and key, but one would have to be stupid not to notice the subtle scent of a vampire presence about him, which should have made him a big no for others.

Then again, the kid smelled so good…

"I would like to know this myself," Hakkai admitted. "Sanzo should have had the presence of mind to ask him some questions."

"Yeah, a vampire tried to eat Goku for lunch and Sanzo's gonna ask him questions. Right."

"I see your point," Hakkai said picking up an arm.

"We should leave signs around the city. Do not touch this boy, for your end will be messy." Gojyo held up a leg. "Where the fuck did this guy come from? Who wears shoes like these?"

"Focus on the clean up, fashion later."

One of the less known facts about vampires was that cleaning up after a spat was easy. It was as if the entirety of the world wanted them gone from memory as soon as possible. A live vampire no animal would approach. A dead one would have the meat picked of his bones faster than Gojyo could do away with a succulent teen. Ants, beetles, spiders; anything that could find sustenance in vampire cells was on the job.

"You think there's any more?" Gojyo asked when they exited the cellar, plastic bags over their shoulders.

"I don't think so. I counted. We have collected every major piece, so unless there was another body in the cellar, we have all of him." There was a drain in the corner and a faucet. They hosed off the worst of the carnage, and left the rest for insects to feast on. Before sundown the cellar would be a smorgasbord for anything with an exoskeleton.

"I meant vampires after Goku's blood."

"Undoubtedly."

"Fuck."

"Indeed."

LII.

Goku was either in shock, or he had a stomach lined with iron, Sanzo wasn't sure which. He wasn't throwing up, he wasn't panicking, he wasn't anything. He hadn't seemed to have too violent a reaction to stabbing Sanzo in the eye, but it wasn't quite the same, now was it.

"I need to clean up," Goku said. He was avoiding Sanzo's eyes. "I have blood in my hair."

Yeah, that. Sanzo almost swallowed his own tongue, trying not to sink his teeth into Goku right then and there. He had settled for popping a Fisherman's Friend into his mouth. The candy was the only thing he knew that was capable of drowning the vile taste of vampire blood. "Are you okay?" he asked, blocking Goku's way to the bathroom with his arm.

"Yes," Goku said, raising his head. He looked Sanzo in the eye. "Move, please."

"I am not going to fish you out of the tub if you faint, or something."

"I'm gonna shoot myself if I need to be carried out of the shower, Sanzo. Leave me alone."

Sanzo stepped away to let Goku pass, but other than that he didn't move an inch. He stood by the entrance to the bathroom, listening to the water droplets hitting Goku's skin, the walls, the curtain. If he listened hard enough, he was sure he could make out the subtle difference in tone, between the droplets that bounced from the tiles and the ones that slid down Goku's skin to land on the ceramic floor. Sanzo knew, as well as he knew that he wouldn't be able to actually see it, that the water would be pink, tinged by the blood in Goku's hair and the fresh cut on his wrist. He rested his forehead against the wall by the door. This child was going to be the death of him.

The water stopped flowing and not two minutes later Goku emerged, a towel around his hips. His hair was dripping wet and his whole body saturated in the peach soap he liked so much. The blood was gone now, the cut shallow enough to allow for the open veins to have clogged up already. Sanzo took Goku's chin in his fingers and tilted his head, to lick a cut on his cheek and from there it was only natural for his tongue to slide towards Goku's mouth.

Goku tasted of fear. Sanzo focused on discerning the molecules of emotion swirling in Goku's mouth. Fear, excitement, desire-

His arms wrapped around Goku of their own accord, lifting him enough to walk them both into the tiny bedroom. The towel was rough against the small patch of skin of his belly, the shirt exposed, rubbing between them as they walked through the flat. Sanzo climbed over the foot of the bed, never letting Goku further away than was needed to take a breath.

Sanzo covered Goku with his body, trapping the entirety of him beneath his weight. That way nothing would escape him, not the tiniest tendril of scent. Sanzo's mouth latched onto the scar on Goku's neck, his tongue mapping every detail. It was small, barely noticeable, and his teeth had left it on Goku's skin, like a brand of ownership. Sanzo felt a jolt of excitement travel through his body.

Goku's hands slid under his shirt, pulling it up Sanzo's chest. "Get it off," he muttered, half-panicked. Sanzo remembered with some difficulty the shirt was bloody from the fight. Not a prop to bring to bed then. He allowed himself a second to get out of the garment, throwing it onto the floor, along with the towel Goku had around his hips.

"God," Sanzo whispered, kneeling over Goku. The boy was bare, aroused and his for the taking, all his.

"Sanzo," Goku muttered, linking his arms around the vampire's neck. He let out a small moan when Sanzo's hand wormed it way underneath his back, and the other slid down his stomach to tease his erect cock.

Sanzo was no longer sure if he heard anything, his ears were so full of the roar of his blood. There was the hungry swell in his breast, screaming for Goku's blood, for his death. Sanzo latched his mouth to Goku's, drowning the hunger in his need for sexual release. His cock was slow to react, but that wasn't news. It took its time, but already it was loud enough to allow for choice of objective. "Don't hurt Goku," the voice in Sanzo's head said. "Fuck him instead. He wants you, look how much he wants you. Can you imagine how would he smell, fucked and spent?"

"Do you have anything?" Sanzo asked, half-aware that his hand was so tight around Goku's cock, it was unlikely he was capable of rational thought. It took the boy several seconds to reply, but he did nod, pointing to the bedside cabinet. Inside Sanzo found a bottle of lubricant. He crawled back across the bed, slithering out of his pants. He leaned over Goku, trailing a line of kisses down his torso, but met a barrier in the form of Goku twisting away from his mouth.

"Do not go there," Goku rasped out, his fingers digging into Sanzo's shoulders.

"You have some oral phobia?"

"You have great big pointy teeth and there's a lot of blood in my cock right now."

"You don't trust me?" Sanzo asked. He wasn't sure if he was surprised. There was a strong emotion filling him, but was it surprise?

"Hell no."

Sanzo claimed his mouth instead, wasting no more time for pleasantries. Goku was so responsive, so tight. Sanzo clenched his eyes shut when Goku let out a loud moan. He pressed his fingertip to the same spot again and withdrew, lifting Goku's knees. Goku watched him, half-dazed with pleasure. Sanzo felt his insides clench and then pain in his lower lip. His fangs slid out, only too eager to be buried in an artery, to have warm, rich blood spurting into the vampire's mouth.

Sanzo let himself fall backwards, bringing Goku up to straddle his hips. He dug his fingers into the mattress as Goku lowered himself onto his cock. It was better. The open window allowed for some movement of the air, diluting the intoxicating scent. The difference was miniscule, but it was enough. Sanzo arched his back and when he took another breath the fangs were once more snug against his maxilla. Not gone – never gone. But hidden. He had a measure of control again, of which he would need every ounce. Goku cried when Sanzo reached for his cock again. It took so little to bring him off, Sanzo realised in wonder. So little and he was breathless against Sanzo's chest, his semen coating both their stomachs and Sanzo's hand.

Sanzo rolled them over and made sure Goku watched as he licked the come from his fingers. The boy shuddered and Sanzo felt the night muscles of his arse spasm around his cock. He started moving then, a steady pace that allowed him enough space to kiss Goku's mouth again, taste the satiation--

love

--tiredness and contentment. Goku wrapped his legs around his hips, his arms around Sanzo's neck, enveloping Sanzo in the golden mist of his scent. The vampire closed his eyes and let go, praying this would only achieve him orgasm and not Goku's death.

When he opened his eyes several minutes later, the emotion clouding his insides was relief. Goku was safe, unharmed, breathing peacefully in his embrace. Sanzo watched him sleep, but his thoughts soon turned sour. He had little illusions. Just because this time nothing happened, Goku was by no means safe from him. How much of his control had been awarded by adrenaline, still pumping in his veins? All the self-control in the world wouldn't have stopped him from sucking Goku dry in the cellar, had there been no taint of vampire blood in bloodstream. Still he was close enough to killing him, close enough to losing control that he swallowed vampire blood, vile though it tasted. It was necessary – despite the fact there was only a few drops polluting Goku's system, vampire blood turned a human being, even minute amounts. He'd got it out, all of it. Goku was safe and whole.

Goku made a snuffling sound into Sanzo's collarbone and Sanzo pressed an open palm to his back, over his heart, and allowed the beat to lull him into a doze.


	14. Chapter 14

LIII.

Gojyo was bloody satisfied. He loved being right, oh God, the feeling was so good. Sanzo had needed the sex, needed it like he needed the air to breathe. Lo and behold, he got laid, and already the difference in his disposition astounded.

"You look happier," Gojyo observed, fighting the shit-eating grin.

"Thank you very much, Gojyo, I do feel a lot happier. You were right, sex helped," Sanzo said. Well, what he actually said was "fuck you, Fluffy," but Gojyo had a PhD in Sanzo-speak. It wasn't hard; all he had to do was read between the lines.

"I told you." Gojyo turned to Hakkai. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You did, yes."

"Wasn't I right?"

"You were right."

"Shut the fuck up already," Sanzo said. He was complaining, of course, the dick that he was, but he was mild about it, satisfied and so goddamned happy his pale mug shone in the unlit room. He would die before he voiced the feelings, or admit Gojyo was correct, but that was just his innate Sanzo-ness. Gojyo harboured no grudges. He took his due out of Sanzo's hide.

"I love my life," Gojyo said. This was far from over. If there was also one thing that could possibly get Gojyo interested in scientific enquiry, it was how long would one afterglow last for Sanzo. Considering that Gojyo was pretty sure the last action Sanzo had seen involved Hakkai (studiously not going there, because explaining to Hakkai just why he was fantasizing about his best friend was so not going to happen), which meant it had been close to half a century before Goku.

"So, how does it feel? I mean, by your standards you are high like a kite."

"Was there a new fucking dictionary issued recently, and 'fuck off and die' has some new meaning I'm unaware of?"

"No, not that I know. What I want to know is how was it?"

"Screw you."

"C'mon," Gojyo whined. "It's not a big secret he's gonna smell fantastic." There was the question how the fuck did Sanzo resist the temptation, which he obviously did. Goku hadn't been so much as nicked in the course of sex, which was surprising. Orgasm wasn't known as the state of most control, vampire or human. "Dude, how did you do it?" Gojyo asked.

"What?"

"How did you not kill him? I mean, don't even try pretending he's the only one that got off, that's bullshit."

Sanzo, as much as it was possible, reddened. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"That's progress," Gojyo told Hakkai. "It wasn't a 'fuck off and die'."

"What, it makes you feel unloved? Fine, fuck off an die!"

"Aw, you do care!"

"No, I don't."

"Yes you doooo." And then Gojyo ran, because satisfied or not, Sanzo had a nasty temper. That was okay though: Sanzo tried to maul him with a smile on his face. Well, the expression that passed for a smile on his face, which most people would consider a frown, but Gojyo knew better. Sanzo was blissful and happy and that was such a novelty for him and his social circles, he could only deal with it by being his usual dicky self.

LIV.

Sanzo escaped the apartment number 5 with his pride mostly intact. Gojyo was still a dick, more so when he was right, but he did have a heart. The fact that the heart he had was in the fridge was irrelevant. Sanzo knocked on Goku's door and let himself in instead, finding the boy sprawled on the couch, a handful of photocopies in his hand. The portrait Sanzo'd sketched was on the floor by the computer, so that whoever sat in front of the screen had a clear view. Sanzo allowed himself a small smile at the sight. He did a good job, regardless of how the colour turned out. It still paled in comparison to the real thing, but the likeness was well-captured, messy hair to pointy chin.

Sanzo turned to the model and experienced a momentary blackout of all thought. Goku was lying across the couch, his feet propped on the backrest, wearing just boxer shorts, snug around his buttocks.

"Hey," he said, sitting up and beaming. "Sorry, you can't stay long, I need to be off in a minute. I have a test today."

"Will you pass?"

"Yeah, 's no big deal. I hope so." Goku rolled off the couch and grabbed his pants. "Fluid mechanics," he added when Sanzo picked up a copy.

"Huh."

"It's how fluids react with environment."

"I know what fluid mechanics are," Sanzo said. "I studied physics."

"Right, right, I forgot. Sorry. It requires a lot brain-bendin' for me, but it ain't hard," Goku said, collecting his pages. "I'm gonna se you later." He packed the last of his books and tied his shoes. "I ought ta be done 'round three."

"I'm coming with you."

"What for?" Goku asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Are you trying to be obtuse exceptionally hard today, or is it your nature?"

"What are you so mean for?" Goku scrunched up his nose and approximated a glare. Considering his facial structure, he got the look of a wounded bunny.

"You almost got killed. Do you have the first idea how lucky you were?"

"You killed the fella. You spray-painted him all over the damn cellar! How is that not gonna scare everyone else away?"

"You have no idea what it feels like." Sanzo took a couple of steps to press Goku against the wall. "This is not the craving you get for a lollipop, this is the line between starving and death, and it never fucking goes away. Any vampire would die to try and drink you up."

"You got better," Goku said, pushing him aside.

"No. I didn't. I'm just biding my time."

"What do you want me to do? Log in every time I wanna set foot outside? That ain't happening." Goku was ireful now. Sanzo saw the amber strings become polluted with the ugly crusty red of anger, and it saddened him.

"You need looking after."

"Fuck you."

"Quit acting like a child."

"Quit treating me like one! I'm a friggin' adult, and I've been on my own for a while!"

"It's not the same! Vampires flock to big cities, it's a wonder there's only been one so far. You cannot be so stupid as to ignore that."

Goku's eyes narrowed. "You will not tell me what I can and cannot do. I know this is a problem. I'll start bathing in garlic, or whatever, if I must, but I don't need a bloody chaperone!"

"Garlic isn't worth a dime against a vampire."

"Hakkai don't use garlic for cooking," Goku said, blinking.

"Because he doesn't like the smell. If you ask him, he'll start. I eat garlic. It's one of the few things that tastes strong enough."

"Oh. But he said there's plants you don't like."

"Just because I don't like a plant doesn't mean I will hesitate to approach it, when the reward is apt," Sanzo said folding his arms. He was hoping he wouldn't need to spell out the potential reward here. "You are not to leave the apartment unsupervised." Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say.

"Fuck you, Sanzo," Goku said, grabbing his rucksack. "I ain't your property, and I ain't a proper lady of your age, to be carted by the arm. You can take all that crap and shove it."

"Even you cannot be so stupid as to disregard your own safety."

"I ain't gonna go waltzing into the midnight bloodsucking clubs, if that's what you mean. Be reasonable, Sanzo." Goku's voice turned pleading. "That guy was nuts. And he was the first vampire, aside from you, I've ever seen. It ain't like there's a long line of them, waiting for have a piece of me."

"You might be surprised."

"What, ya got names?"

"No, but that doesn't mean there aren't any."

"Jesus Christ. Look, I promise I'll be careful," Goku said. "If that ain't gonna work, I'm gonna go and lie to the blood donation centre, give more blood than is healthy and then get a transfusion."

"How do you plan on making this work?"

"Whatever! Just don't go stalking me!"

Sanzo opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could Goku took a look at his watch.

"Crap, I'm gonna be late." He grabbed Sanzo by the elbow and ushered him outside. "Go, play with Gojyo or whatever it is you do when you don't stalk people."

"I don't want anything to happen to you," Sanzo ground out finally, at long last giving voice to the fear that haunted all the hours of his day since the vampire incident. Now this was the right track, he surmised from the way Goku's features softened. Go for the heart, appeal to Goku's tender emotion, why the fuck hadn't this occurred to him previously?

"Shit happens," Goku said stroking his cheek. "Ain't a damn thing you can do to stop it. Tell you what, if I get hit by a bus, you are welcome to finish me off by blood loss. That cool with you?"

"Don't be stupid."

Goku laughed and ran, without a care in the world. Tonight Sanzo, once Goku fell asleep, was going to have another sleepless night, patrolling the city in search of other vampires.

LV.

"I cannot find fault in his argument," Hakkai said, lifting a cup of tea to his lips. Though he could taste the beverage only after an hour of careful steeping, when the liquid was more dark brown sludge than water, he never ceased to enjoy tea. It gave him the illusion of enjoying vegetation-based meals, which worked wonders on the vestiges of his humanity.

"Were you struck with the sudden bout of stupidity too?"

"Sanzo, be reasonable," Hakkai said setting the cup aside. "He is still a child. He needs to assert his independence."

"He is twenty years old and in permanent danger."

"I would like to remind you that there is so few of us in the world, Goku would be very unlucky to run into a vampire ever again in his lifetime."

"On what do you base this prediction?"

"I have reason to suspect that Goku's appeal is based on sexual maturity. We might crave the blood of children, but Goku is, as you know, something else. Now, basic biology tells us that children aren't sexually attractive, so it stands to reason Goku has only been as magnetic for perhaps five-six years. Even less, he seems to be a late bloomer."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that he's lived this long without your assistance."

"There's also a law that states that once something had been accomplished, it will be repeated."

"Your logic is flawed. Laws of probability do not work in accordance with this rule." The more Hakkai argued, the more apparent it became that his words were circling a black hole, situated between Sanzo's ear and his brain. Sanzo would not be consoled and he would not be reasoned with. That boy and his influence were turning out to be a more of a handful than Hakkai anticipated. "How's this for an alternative: we kidnap Goku, purchase an estate in the country – France perhaps – and only allow him as far as the gardens. Perhaps even less. Perhaps we ought to collar him and keep him in a cellar, so that we needn't bother with sunlight."

"It's a thought."

"You are being puerile. There is no reason to suspect he is in danger at the moment." Hakkai took a sip and straightened his newspaper. "He's at school, among other students. No vampire would attack him in a crowd, not when it is obvious Goku has had intimate relations with another vampire."

"Am I supposed to sit back and just let him die?"

"It will happen, sooner or later," Hakkai pointed out. "He is human. Unless you turn him--" Sanzo growled a rather rude refusal, "--you will have to watch him die, one day."

Ay, there was the rub indeed. Sanzo bit his lip and sat, at long last on the couch. His pacing was giving Hakkai a headache.

"Where's the wolf?"

"He went to take some pictures."

"The nude models, again?"

"He's in Playboy's employ."

"Pervert."

"There's the adage about glass houses and throwing stones, I do believe it's remarkably accurate for the occasion."

"What would you do?" Sanzo asked, looking into Hakkai's eyes. "If the wolf was mortal?"

That was a question to which Hakkai had no honest answer. He was certain – he wouldn't get a conviction out of this certainty, but it amounted to a high percentage – that Gojyo's immortality played a part in his attraction. He liked to think his heart was wired into his brain, which of course was not without drawbacks.

"I don't know," he said. He couldn't imagine having Gojyo without the ever-present aura of dog, the occasional flea, or the shifts, which Hakkai could have lived without ever seeing. It was all Gojyo. If it went away, what would be left?

LVI.

Goku threw his hands into the air. At long last it was Saturday! The week from hell was over, the tests done, the projects handed in and he was free, for two whole days. Well, more like a day and a half, since he wasted the morning in bed. Then again, it counted as rest, because Sanzo was there, and Sanzo could be wonderfully relaxing, even with the blowjobs being banned. This meant, however, that his free weekend was now limited to a day, he calculated, trailing after Pip to Islington, for Zakuro's party.

"C'mon do I have to go?"

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not a party person."

"You're been moping all week. You need some entertainment."

"True that."

"Boyfriend trouble?"

"Yeah, sorta."

"Such as?"

"He's a bit of a possessive dick. He's under the impression I'm suicidal and spend my time loitering on railway tracks," Goku said.

"You, suicidal?" Pip stopped in her tracks and considered Goku in his going out outfit, which was much like his going to school outfit, except it involved hair gel, for all the good it did. His hair was still messy, only now it looked messy and wet. "I'm sorry, on which planet in which solar system could you be considered suicidal?"

"Earth, apparently."

"Your boyfriend needs a reality check."

"Yeah. I guess."

Pip had a serious expression on her face, something Goku wasn't used to just yet. "He's not threatening you, though?"

"What? Hell no. I'd kick his ass if he tried." He was reasonably positive about that. He still had the machete Hakkai had given him; it was too chunky to carry around, but it was there, its weight comforting whenever he felt like reaching out into the space between the mattress and the frame of the bed.

"You sure?"

Goku wasn't always sure how to handle Pip's concern. Girls were a mystery to him, though he was beginning to suspect a crush might be involved. She did react with disappointment to the news of Sanzo, and it couldn't be the gay thing, because Pip marched in the defence of small fuzzy creatures. There was just no way she was against gays. Goku was not going to ask, though. He was certain he would drown in his own blush before the question made its way out of his mouth.

"Yes," he said instead. "I might be kinda a little bit in love with him, even though he's a jerk."

"Wow. That's adorable!"

It looked like Goku wasn't going to need to strain himself to achieve a blush.

The party, when they arrived, had yet to start. Oh, there were people, too much for the small apartment, and there was booze, way too much for the people assembled, but the fun seemed to be missing.

"Hey!" Zakuro said, coming towards them with his arms opened wide. "I was beginning to wonder. Settle down, I think I've seen an inch of free surface somewhere."

"The ceiling, most likely," Pip said, shrugging out of her loose shirt. Goku, without thinking, took hold of it and hung it by the door. "Aw, that's sweet."

"Dude, where did you hail from, Versailles?" Zakuro asked.

Goku just stared at the two of them. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Lemme maybe get you a drink, huh? The party needs some movement, I swear, it gets any more lethargic, I'm gonna need to call a hearse."

"It is kinda quiet." It was. And the number of people, Goku could see now, was exaggerated by the space they occupied. People, most of whom he recognised from classes, were sprawled, filling the space immediately above them with smoke. Even in the clutter of limbs and bags and bottles they found a small section of the floor that hadn't yet been claimed and settled, he and Pip, against the wall.

"Here you go," Zakuro said, arriving with a triangle of glasses between his fingers. "Vodka and orange juice, I trust that works for you?"

"Depends how much vodka you added." Pip took the glass and raised it. "Cheers."

"Right back atcha, girl."

Goku grinned and clinked their glasses together. "To the party," he said, and downed the glass. "God, that was vile."

"'s why I added a lot of vodka," Zakuro grinned, "To kill the taste of the orange beverage."

"Good choice." Pip nodded sagely. "But I think I'm gonna need more."

"It's kinda warm in here," Goku said, staring at his hands. His face felt hot.

"I'm gonna go open the window," Zakuro said, but Goku was already on his feet.

"I need…" he muttered, "…bathroom?"

"Over there." He might have said more, Goku wasn't sure. He made a beeline for the door in the corridor, already throwing up before he could locate the light switch. He didn't make it to the toilet, but he had the sense to grab onto the sink. Vomit was a horrible thing to clean up, he thought, bent in half over the porcelain.

"Goku?" Pip asked, but her voice took second place on the message board of Goku's brain, after the sharp pain lacing through his stomach.

"I don't feel so good," he said through clenched teeth which soon became unclenched, because all of sudden he couldn't breathe. He brought a hand to his mouth, to make sure it was open and discovered his face wet with tears. He looked up to find Pip staring at him, her eyes wide in panic. She was flushed and really pretty, lit from the back by the lamps in the corridor.

Goku fell to his knees, gasping for air. Thank god his stomach had settled, he thought right about the time he heard Pip whip up her mobile phone, the one with the cute rubber bunny toy on it, and punch three digits. "I need an ambulance," she said, "I'm in Islington, my friend's just collapsed. He's throwing up and he can't breathe!"

The tiles were cold, Goku thought, his head lolling to the side. So comforting, when his skin felt like it was on fire…


	15. Chapter 15

LVII.

Up until the moment Goku collapsed on the bathroom floor, gasping for breath, Pip was having a good time. Sure, the party was lame, but Goku was his usual sweet self, so in worst-case scenario, they would have gone to see a movie.

Now having fun was the very last thing in her mind. Crap, Pip thought, listening to the voice of the dispatcher on the other side of the line. "Is he conscious?" the lady asked.

"No."

"Is he breathing?" Pip summoned all her brainpower to kneel next to Goku and bend her head to his mouth. Her eyes were drawn to the tiles on the floor – they were so bright, embossed with tiny circles. Pip fought a surprised giggle and then remembered this was not what she was supposed to be doing. She focused on the feel of air against her cheek.

"He's breathing," she said, weak with relief. "But not much."

"The ambulance is on its way," the woman said. "They should be arriving soon. Stay calm."

Easy for her to say, Pip thought, snapping the phone closed. She wasn't sitting on the floor next to an unconscious friend in a bathroom that smelled of vomit and urine. But whatever other thoughts flitted through her mind as she sat on the floor, holding on for dear life, vanished in an instant when Zakuro opened the door and admitted paramedics inside.

"His pulse is slow," said one of the guys in an orange jacket, looking at his watch. "Miss, what exactly happened?"

"He had a drink," Pip said. "Vodka and orange juice." She turned to Zakuro, searching for confirmation. He nodded. "He said he was hot, went for the bathroom and started throwing up."

"Did he complain of abdominal pains?"

"No, it was all very quick," Pip said, surprising herself with the calmness with which she could talk. "He did grab his stomach though."

"Give me epinephrine," the first paramedic said. He pushed Goku's sleeve up his arm and pushed the needle of the syringe into the muscle. The other guy fitted an oxygen mask onto Goku's face. "Let's move."

As they loaded Goku onto the stretcher, Pip had the presence of mind to grab his wallet from the pocket of his trousers. Figures Goku would have a girlie wallet. It wasn't pink, but it did have Hello Kitty on it. He probably thought it was cute, with the little ridges the fabric left on the print of the white blob with a ribbon on its ear. "I'm going too," Pip called to Zakuro, grabbing her shirt and following the paramedics. "Sorry 'bout the mess in the bathroom." Well, she wasn't but she had a suspicion Goku would be mortified when he found out.

"You coming, Miss?" the paramedic asked, snapping the gurney into place on the floor of the ambulance.

"Yes," she said, grabbing his rough hand and hefting herself in after Goku.

"You needn't worry too much, Miss," said the other paramedic, slapping the glass separating them from the driver. "You friend will be fine. Looks like he has a bad allergy, but the good news is that it's not fatal. He's breathing on his own."

"Allergy? That's impossible, I've been drinking with him before."

"He didn't drink much, then?" the guy asked, holding a mask over Goku's face.

"Don't think he is. I had the same thing and I'm fine." Pip examined the inside of her head. "I'm hardly buzzed at all."

"It's probably an allergy. Try and get in contact with his family. Maybe they'd know something." The problem with the advice was of course that Goku had no family. He must have an emergency contact number though. Pip cursed Goku for not owning a mobile phone. First thing after I'm out of the hospital, she told herself, I'm buying the idiot a mobile. She snooped through Goku's wallet and found a clue in the form of a laminated piece of paper. ICE – Gojyo Sha, 44 607 33 45 87. With shaking fingers she punched the number and waited out the dial tone.

"What?" a gruff voice asked, with the implication the call is unwelcome and should be disconnected as soon as this becomes apparent. Pip persisted. She wasn't going to let some guy ruin her mood, which was fantastic despite the circumstances.

"Hi, I'm Pip- Piper McGee. I'm friends with Goku."

"And?" the voice said, though there was the suggestion she had moved up in the speaker's estimation from useless to "depends on what is said next."

Pip considered her words. "We're on the way to a hospital now." The voice on the other side of the line quieted. Pip wasn't sure if she heard breathing. "Goku's unconscious, we don't know what happened, do you know if he's allergic or-"

"Which hospital?"

"Which hospital?" Pip asked the paramedics. She repeated the name into the receiver. All she got in return was the beep of a connection being severed. "Well, that went well." Some help this guy was.

They arrived at the hospital in a flurry of siren and rapidly closing doors. Pip jumped out of the back as the paramedics wheeled Goku out the ambulance and into the emergency room. "What happened?" a doctor asked, undoing Goku's shirt and pressing the resonator of the stethoscope to his chest.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. She was better now. The alcohol must have kicked in because her head was swimming and she felt light, so weightless she could fly. "We were at a party, our friend from college threw it to celebrate the end of tests, I guess. It's something to celebrate, you know. Goku got a drink and started throwing up and then he fainted."

"What was in the drink?" the doctor asked, his fingertips against Goku's neck. Pip panicked, but the doctor nodded to himself, satisfied. "His throat is swollen, fortunately the airway is not obstructed."

"We gave him epinephrine," the paramedic said. "He was breathing on his own when we got there."

"Good. Thank you. What was in the drink?"

"Vodka, orange juice," Pip said and repeated what she'd already told the paramedics. "I had the same thing."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine!"

"You took something," said a voice. Pip recognised the gruffness even before she started turning. When she did, she found her jaw dragging on the floor. The guy was bloody gorgeous! All pale and blond and dark-eyed… Her heart bounced in her chest, though he barely looked at her. His attention was focused on Goku, prone on the stretcher. "How is he?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm his significant other," Sanzo said.

Damn, Pip thought. Figures. She wondered briefly why was he the one who answered the phone, when the name on the card was Gojyo, but that was a mystery for another day.

"He's safe now. He was lucky you called the ambulance when you did," the doctor told Pip. Sanzo measured her with a glare and Pip felt grudging thankfulness directed her way. "We're going to keep him overnight observation, but he should be fine." He turned towards a nurse, who'd appeared to wheel Goku out of the corridor and into a room. "Start an IV, give him diphenhydramine."

"Thank God," Pip muttered.

"I find it very odd he doesn't have an allergy plan though. Has this happened before?"

"No," Sanzo said. "He's not allergic to anything."

"I have solid evidence to the contrary," the doctor retorted.

"She took something. Might be the same thing."

"What? I didn't take anything!"

"You have pupils the sizes of small moons," Sanzo growled, grabbing Pip's chin and turning it towards the burning light.

"Ouch!"

The doctor took her hand. "You pulse is very fast. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine!"

"Are you happy?"

Pip blinked. Then blinked again. "Yeah, I guess. Why wouldn't I be happy?" she asked, then remembered Goku, unconscious on the stretcher. There was a reason right there. For the first time she felt something like fear. Why wasn't she upset? Why wasn't she scared?

"Have you ever taken ecstasy pills?" the doctor asked.

"No!"

"Are you sure?"

"I only had one drink, we'd only just arrived, it was ten minutes, tops."

"You were at a party. Did you make the drinks yourself?"

"No, I…" Pip closed her eyes and swayed. She was hot all of sudden. "Zak brought them. Excuse me." She had Zak on speed dial under five. Very useful guy when it came to getting discount computer parts. Not so much, as it was turning out, for spending a party without an unscheduled high.

It took five rings for Zakuro to pick up and when he finally did there was the noise of a party in full swing in the background. "Zak, you son of a bitch," Pip growled into the phone. "Did you put something in the drinks?"

"I wouldn't!"

"I don't care if you would! Did you? We're in a damn hospital, dickhead, Goku's unconscious. Did you slip any pills into our drink?"

There was a moment of silence. "I just wanted to get you two to relax! You know how Goku is, too much of a dork to have fun at a party! Shit, he barely drinks!"

"Fuck you, dickhead! He could die!" Pip disconnected and considered throwing the phone against the wall. It was kinda greenish, the colour Zak favoured when it came to hair dye, it might serve as sufficient substitute. Her hands shook when she abandoned the idea and put the phone back in her pocket. She raised her gaze to find Sanzo and the doctor staring at her, the first unreadable the second with some sympathy.

"I don't mean to speak up in defence of administering drugs to unaware people, but MDMA allergies are very rare. Your friend was just unlucky." The doctor moved to fetch a form. "Can someone fill this in for me?"

LVIII.

Goku woke to a grey light and an unfamiliar ceiling. He ached all over and had the vague notion that his life was pointless and painful.

"How are you feeling?" a cheerful voice asked. Goku turned his head. Why was there a nurse by his bed? "You had a severe reaction to a pill," she said, checking something by the bed. It went beep at her touch. Goku took it to mean he was still alive. "You're just fine, so don't worry. The doctor will be coming in a short while."

"Can I go?"

"Wait for the doctor. You've been unconscious until now."

Goku nodded, then reviewed the conversation. "Wait, what pill?"

"Ecstasy," said a doctor walking in through the door. "The host thought you needed some help with having fun, that's what your girl friend said."

"Pip is here?" Goku sat up on the bed, panicked. "Is she okay? She drunk the same thing, is she here too? Can I see her?"

"Relax. She is perfectly fine. No, she is not here, your significant other sent her home to get some sleep. They had a loud argument about it in the middle of the night. Actually, I'd appreciate you telling him to go away, he's been scaring away people with broken limbs."

"She's really okay? Sanzo's here?"

"I didn't ask what he was called, he scares me," the doctor confessed checking his clipboard. "Good news for you. I'd like you to stay for a couple more hours, so send your scary boyfriend away, but tell him to come back with some clothes and he can take you home."

"Really?"

"You suffered an anaphylactic shock from consuming MDMA pills – Ecstasy in other words. I take it you don't make this a habit?"

"I didn't take no pills," Goku insisted. "I swear I didn't!"

"Relax. We already know you weren't aware you took them. Your friend put them in your drink. That was very incautious of you, by the way," the doctor said, stern for the first time, "to accept a drink you haven't seen prepared."

Goku said nothing. He wouldn't have figured this applied to parties at friends' place. He stared at the covers and his hands, strangely pale in the early morning light. When he looked up again the doctor had migrated to the other side of the bed, in an attempt to get away from Sanzo, who appeared out of nowhere. "Are you okay?" he asked and Goku looked away.

"Yeah. Can I go now?"

"No. Couple more hours, just to make sure you are fine, and you," the doctor turned to Sanzo, "will go and fetch Mr Son some clean clothes." Sanzo glared at the doctor, but nodded. He left the room without a word, to the doctor's relief.

"No offence, but he is very disturbing. Now, Mr Son, I'll give you a prescription for a dose of epinephrine, just in case, but it will be for emergencies only. You don't have any other allergies?" Goku shook his head. "Very well then. Don't do drugs, and you ought to be fine."

Goku kept nodding. He wanted out. Hospitals made his skin crawl. At least this was better than the last time he woke in a sterile environment. At least this time there wasn't a squad of doctors to inform him his loved ones had been killed in a car accident that he'd survived with nary a scratch.

He wanted to go home. Goku wrapped his arms around his knees and didn't move until Sanzo showed up, carrying a bundle of clothes. Goku looked away as he dressed, starting when Sanzo laid a hand on his back. "I wanna go home," Goku said. "Let's go home."

LIX.

Goku slept through Sunday, waking up only to eat soup Hakkai brought up for him and have a quick shower. He called Pip on Monday morning to let her know he wasn't coming in, and yes, he was feeling just fine, but Sanzo was being overprotective and dicky, more than usual, so he was staying to prove he could go through the day without fainting. Goku growled and complained and finally yelled, but Sanzo wouldn't budge.

"Fuck you," Goku said at last. "Fine, I'm staying put today, but I swear you get in my way tomorrow, I'm gonna tie you up and stuff your mouth full of garlic."

"It won't stop me."

"I'm gonna try all the same," Goku grumbled, but couldn't quite conceal the pleasant tickle in the depths of his belly. Sanzo was a dick, he'd have to buy himself a puppy on a string to kick if it were to be any more obvious, but the fervent concern was flattering.

Goku had nothing but nice things to say about the third cousin who'd looked after him after his parents died. He was a great guy, but he had his own family to care about and he wasn't a mother hen to begin with. They were both relieved when Goku turned eighteen and proved to be capable of paying his own bills. Goku's parents were lovely people, and Goku never once doubted their love for him, but they were from the same school of familial relations as the cousin. So long as there was health and general contentment, no one interfered. The feeling of being at the centre of someone's attention was new and exciting, and on the whole Goku was certain he wouldn't get tired of it any time soon. At the same time, though, it drove him up the wall.

As if sensing Goku's discomfort (which they probably did, though Goku preferred not to dwell on it), on Monday Gojyo and Hakkai came up to visit, on the basis that Sanzo deemed the stairs unsafe for allergic people to take.

"I'm beginning to think you have some sort of immortality thing going for you," Gojyo said. He sprawled on the couch, taking up more space than a single body should. "You live through two vampire attacks, a vampire getaway, and anaphylactic shock."

"It wasn't shock." Hakkai handed Goku a cup of tea. "It was just anaphylaxis."

"Whatever." The werewolf waved his hand in the air and sipped the tea. "The point is, dude, you are all kinds of special. If NHS didn't kill you, nothing will."

"Sure don't feel like it."

"Cheer up, will you?"

But Goku couldn't. Sanzo was mad, though he sat in the chair, unmoving, giving no outward sign he was anything other than perfectly calm. Goku could feel the fury boiling under the surface, and he had no idea how to defuse it. He had not forgotten how dangerous Sanzo was, how bad his temper was. He wasn't scared – not for himself, at any rate. Sanzo had been nothing but concerned about his well-being the past two days, so he wasn't scared. He was worried.

"You are feeling okay, though?" Bless Hakkai and his unending concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You realise that relapses can happen up to a week?"

"I'm fine!" Goku wondered how he ever thought mother-henning was a good thing. He was fine. The allergy was a strange thing, but he was otherwise in perfect shape. He'd never had flu, for goodness sake. One allergy, especially one as obscure, was not going to kill him, not when there were three supernatural entities with teeth made for tearing through human flesh on his couch.

The computer beeped, signalling a new email and Goku gratefully leapt to answer it. Anything that got him out of Sanzo's range was welcome at this point. He opened the mail program and frowned. It was Pip, writing to announce her arrival. What the hell?

"Hey, Pip's coming to visit. Ya all mind clearing out?"

"You've got a girl visiting you? I've got the feeling we'd better stay and see to it that Sanzo doesn't hurt her."

"We've met," Sanzo said, crossing his arms. Goku gave him a surprised look, then remembered. He'd been unconscious for a couple of hours and Pip rode with him to the hospital.

"You've met the girl?"

"In the hospital, dimwit. She was with Goku at the party."

"Right, right. Is she pretty?"

"She's very cute," Goku said, when Sanzo made no comment.

"Does she have a nice rack?"

"Yes." Too late Goku realised this wasn't the right comment to make in front of a jealous boyfriend. Sanzo paid no attention, thank God, unlike Gojyo.

"Is she nice?"

"Yes, why?"

"So let me get this straight, you've got a girl that's nice, cute and I'm assuming with half a brain, if she's in your classes, and you hang around the winning combo of boring, blond and brooding?"

Goku looked up a little to late to see the beginning of the brawl. He only saw Hakkai pushing Sanzo and Gojyo apart. "Please don't get blood on the couch," Goku said. "I like to study on it."

"I bet." Gojyo leered, and Goku threw a cookie at his head.


	16. Chapter 16

LX.

How did Goku land such a nice place, Pip wondered checking the address in her mobile. The building was well-kept and she was willing to bet somewhere in its basements there was enough artefacts to open a museum. Pip walked three flights of stairs and knocked on the door number 9, jumping back when it opened as soon as her hand touched the harsh wood.

"Pip, I am ever so glad to see you." Goku bounced on the balls of his feet and pulled her inside by the elbow. "I was going stir-crazy. I mean, I know Sanzo means well, but he can be such a dickhead about it."

"Are you sure you're okay?" From the way Goku sighed she assumed this was a question he'd heard fifteen times a day since Saturday night.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was hard to even be depressed, Sanzo was hovering like I would start spasming if he took his eyes off me for one second."

"You didn't, right?"

"Gimme a break. I am fine, I don't go chomping on drugs every day." Goku led her into the kitchen, made tea and offered up a plate of cookies. "Hakkai made them. He's a wizard in the kitchen, let me tell you."

Pip took one and took a deep breath. Goku went on chattering, the food, the cookies, the supper Hakkai promised. At last she had no choice but to interrupt.

"Goku, Zakuro is dead," Pip blurted out and watched Goku freeze. It was very strange. Just a couple seconds earlier he'd been bouncing and now he froze, as if he looked back at a place so evil god himself had to burn it. "I heard today in class. He took a swan dive off the roof of his building during the night. His roommate found him this morning."

Goku said nothing. He didn't move, he didn't breathe; for a second Pip was worried this was a relapse.

"Are you okay?" she asked at last, moving to lay her hand on Goku's shoulder.

"Why? Why would- why would he do this?"

Pip bit his lip. "I kinda yelled at him, in the hospital. Over the phone. I think he took it to heart. I talked to his friend, that funny guy with the cap, you know him, he said Zakuro took days to get out of ecstasy funk. Said he'd mope for ages. Once he caught him with a bottle of sleeping pills in hand."

Goku kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "He wasn't surprised?"

"No," Pip said. He had been sad, yes, and a little worse for wear, but not surprised. It did nothing to alleviate her guilt. She'd yelled at the bastard, and at the time she'd meant every single word, but she had never wanted him to die! Not for one second, not even when she thought Goku would die.

"Oh God," Goku said, hiding his face in his hands. "It's all my fault."

"Don't say that! It's not your fault, you did nothing wrong!" Pip wrapped her arms around Goku's hunched figure. "It was his own doing, start to finish."

Goku bit his lip and smiled wanly. "Would be nice if you believed it too."

"Me? I don't blame you!"

"You're blaming yourself, though."

Pip allowed herself a small smile. Goku, though he appeared as complicated as a glass sphere, sometimes displayed remarkable powers of perception. "I yelled at him, while he was high. I Googled ecstasy before I came here, depression is a common after effect, and I'd yelled at him. I told him he killed you."

"I didn't die."

"It looked pretty scary from where I was standing."

Goku turned to envelop her in a hug in return. "Still don't mean it wasn't my fault."

"Goku…"

"Can ya- Leave me alone?" Goku looked at her, and as usual Pip found that his eyes made the request impossible to deny. She didn't want to leave, though at the same time she wanted nothing more than to go home and hide in her mum's arms. She wasn't sure he should be alone either. It'd only been two days, and wiki said the after effects of ecstasy could take as long as four days to pass. A sudden fear gripped her – what if Goku, too, would die? If this was the last time she'd get to see him?

Ridiculous, she told herself. Goku was the last person on the planet to commit suicide. But Zakuro hadn't seemed the type either, not to her.

"I'll be fine," Goku said, as if he sensed her dilemma. "I promise. I just need to think."

"Will you really be okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks. For telling me, I mean. Thanks Pip," Goku said at the door and when it closed she was left with the urgency to knock again. Goku wasn't going to disappear, was he?

LXI.

Goku's bedroom window opened onto the street leading to a bus stop, and further on to an underground station. Goku watched Pip march down the street, one hand down the enormous pocket of her jacket, the other gripping the strap of her bag. He watched to make sure she left.

As Pip walked out of his line of sight, his eyes drifted downwards, to the glint of metal between the mattress and the wooden frame of the bed. Goku sat and waited, considering the conversation. He didn't promise not to do anything stupid, at least he was reasonably sure he hadn't. He had forgotten about the machete, so comforting had Sanzo's presence become. Vampires. Goku snorted. Who would have thought. He didn't move from his spot by the window, secure in the knowledge he wouldn't need to wait long. He was right.

There was a knock on the door and before the last of it was done vibrating through the air the knob was turning and the door opened. Sanzo was back, no doubt to make sure Goku was heeding his orders and not doing anything that could get him killed, like stubbing his toes. Goku rose from the bed and walked to meet Sanzo in the living room.

Sanzo paused, seeing him in the middle of the room, machete in hand. Goku watched him hesitate at the door, but the moment was gone before it truly began. "You son of a bitch," Goku growled. "How could you?"

"How could I what?" Sanzo asked, though he must have known what Goku meant.

"You killed Zakuro, didn't you?"

Sanzo said nothing for a long while. "I didn't kill him."

"Bullshit!"

"You don't trust me?"

"Look at me! Look at me and say you had nothing to do with his death and I will believe you." It hurt, dear god how much it hurt to see Sanzo avoid his gaze. Truth wouldn't set any of them free, not this time.

"He almost killed you."

"He didn't mean to! Jesus Christ, Sanzo! Zak's just a kid!"

"He gave you drugs." Sanzo's eyes blazed with fury. "He gave you drugs and you were unaware of it. Even if you weren't allergic, that was unacceptable. He deserved what he got."

Goku bit his lip. His eyes stung, his lip hurt, but he knew if he stopped tears would start falling and that would just be bad. "Get out," he said. "Get out of my flat, get out, get out! I don't ever want to see ya again!"

"No."

Goku crossed the room in three steps and slammed Sanzo into the wall. "You sick son of a bitch!" There was a small problem with attacking a creature whose default mode was to try and kill him, Goku remembered when the room flashed before his eyes and he was thrown onto the couch. Sanzo leaned over him, his weight, so comforting when it was the two of them tangled in the cotton sheets, naked and blissful, was suddenly a threat as blatant as the extra teeth. "Fuck you," Goku growled, though the vampire pressing against his gut made breathing difficult, "ya ain't scarin' me! Get the fuck off!"

"You're mine," Sanzo said, and Goku's eyes narrowed.

"No," he hissed. "No, 'm not. I'm my own."

Sanzo kissed him then, his tongue forcing its way into Goku's mouth, as if he were trying to suck out his very soul. Goku wished he could, and that he would take the pain and guilt with it, because he fucking deserved every ounce. Zakuro had been a kid, nothing but a kid who'd made a goddamned mistake! He didn't deserve to die for it, any more than Goku deserved this.

"Leave," he said, when the machete he was holding bit into Sanzo's skin at the throat. "Leave or I will kill you." He couldn't bear to look into Sanzo's face. He focused on the machete, reflecting the sunshine, and the blood, trailing down its blade. The rivulets slid towards the handle and pooled until the surface tension could hold it no more and a fat drop spilled over the edge, onto Goku's shirt.

Goku tightened his grip and looked up, into Sanzo's eyes. "Leave," he said again.

Sanzo listened this time. Goku had no idea – he didn't want to have an idea – what convinced him. He didn't know himself whether he was capable of following through with what he threatened, even if it was self-defence, even if the vampire deserved death. Even if Goku loved him and needed to know he wouldn't become a nightmare, preying on anyone who dared to offend his twisted ideas of reality.

The door slammed and he was gone. Goku didn't move from the couch. He lay there, gripping the handle of the machete, and wept. He cried for Sanzo, for Zakuro, but most of all he cried for himself. He could've pretended, when this first started, that it was going to work, that he and Sanzo could have a happy ending, but he'd been lying to himself, he knew that now. It had always been going to end in blood and tears and now it had.

LXII.

It was a gorgeous day. March spared no expense to make it so. The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting up in the trees and Gojyo had plans to spend a lovely afternoon with naked women and several bottles of champagne. Too bad his contract prohibited him from drinking. Stupid house rules.

Nonetheless, Gojyo whistled as he walked, the heavy camera bouncing off his hip. He was walked past a bus stop when his nose tapped him on the back. He turned to follow the as of yet unidentified scent. There was a girl reading a timetable. That wasn't what caught his attention, though. She had the tendrils of Goku's smell about her, curling and mixing with her own. Gojyo looked around. There should be no other vampires around, but it never hurt to be careful.

"Hi," he said, standing next to her with a wide grin. "You wouldn't happen to be Pip, would you?"

Pip gave him a look. "Depends."

"I'm, what's the abbreviation, BFF with Goku."

"BFF, seriously? How old are you?"

"Old enough to know I just made a juvenile idiot outta myself." Gojyo grinned and Pip laughed. Goku had a decent eye. She was cute, and her chest, though a couple letters up the alphabet too early for Gojyo's tastes, was indeed adorable.

There was some irony in the fact that Gojyo, who had no plans to ever again touch anyone that wasn't a green-eyed male vampire with serious mental disorders, enjoyed his women busty.

"I live with the landlord, apartment number 5. We hang out with Goku a lot and he's mentioned you a couple of times."

"And you recognised me just like that?"

"I take photos for a living," Gojyo said, shaking the camera. "You wouldn't believe how descriptive people can be, even when they're not trying." Still sounded better then "hey, smelled you! You were in my building just now!"

Pip's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit. He showed you the pictures, didn't he?"

"I won't mention them ever again if you don't," Gojyo said. He made a mental note to have Goku show him the photos when he went home. "What brings you here?"

"I was just at Goku's," Pip said, looking down. "This guy from our class died last night. I thought Goku might want to know."

To say the words rang a warning bell in Gojyo's brain was an understatement. They rang a symphony of horror and dread. There had been a taint of fear on Sanzo, fear that couldn't have been the product of a vampire body. Gojyo'd ignored it, because it had been there consistently ever since the dickhead hijacked his mobile and took off for the hospital, but he had thought it was richer this morning.

Fuck.

"Did you leave Goku alone?" he asked urgently, grasping Pip's shoulder.

"He asked me to!" Her voice carried the hint of panic.

"I'm sorry." Gojyo let go. "That's not how I meant it. I'm sure he's fine, but I'd rather not see him mope. He's no fun when he's moping."

"There is such a thing as grief."

Gojyo smiled, already turning towards home. "I know. Have a good day Pip. Thanks for telling me. Oh, and the name is Gojyo, by the way."

"No problem," she said, confused. "Bye!"

Gojyo strode into an alley and, with nothing but a cursory glance to the sides, leapt onto the roof. If Sanzo fucking killed that kid, if Hakkai found out…

But Pip had said she was just getting back from Goku. Hakkai must have already known. Gojyo ran, though he knew he was going to be too late.

LXIII.

One hundred and sixty-five years of existence and twice now Sanzo'd had his world ripped out from underneath his feet. The shock he understood. What he didn't understand was why and how could it have been Goku who ripped him open so thoroughly with only a few small words. It made no sense. The boy was just human, nothing but a human child. Sanzo brought his fingers to his neck, to the shallow cut, which had already begun to heal.

Goku's anger was understandable. He had such a soggy little heart that he would weep for every rat he'd have to bite into to stay alive. All the same, Sanzo knew Goku would come around, eventually. He was too stupid to hold a grudge forever especially against someone he loved. For all his anger the emotion that threatened to spill out and overwhelm him had been sadness, more than anything else, even fury. Goku, bless his idiocy and lack of self-preservation, loved him, which was exactly what was wrong with the picture.

Goku would have killed him. That thought rattled in Sanzo's brain, toppling over the foundations of Sanzo's universe. The damned kid had made the decision, he had made the fucking choice and he would have followed through.

Worst of all, was that Sanzo hadn't the first clue why he hadn't let this happen. Surely it was better to die at Goku's hands than Hakkai's, which was now bound to happen. He had broken Hakkai's rules; he'd known that he'd break them when he went after the boy who'd almost killed Goku. Sanzo was not one to mince his words when he was angry. It helped that the boy had been dying with fright and depression when he'd found him. He'd barely looked up when Sanzo'd grabbed him by the neck and hauled him to the roof.

He had wondered, afterwards, why had there been no urge to make the child his next meal. He could easily have disposed of the body. London was kind to its nightlife – there would have been zero problems in finding a resting place for one teenager. But of course that would have made no difference. Sanzo would have had broken the rules either way. He went to Islington with the intention to kill, whether he'd killed for food or for revenge, Hakkai's rules were clear.

Sanzo found, to his great surprise, that he was in no hurry to lay his head on the chipping block. He didn't want to die, even with his world swaying dangerously, admitting all kinds of unwelcome things into its boundaries. When was it that he started enjoying life, he asked himself, when the fuck did he start fearing death?

He had an immediate opportunity to consider this, when the world turned on its axis and Sanzo was flat on his back in the middle of Hakkai's living room. "I had suspected something was amiss," the other vampire said. He didn't raise his voice. Hakkai rarely did. He was brandishing a kitchen knife, and that, for Sanzo, was a cause to worry, perhaps even panic.

"You eavesdropped?"

"Hardly. Goku's little friend arrived in a cloud of dark feelings, which she shared with Goku; it required no genius on my part to put two and two together."

"He deserved it," Sanzo hissed.

"Why do you assume I care?" Hakkai closed the door. "I have no interest in justice, nor righteousness."

"Your rules say otherwise."

"They are in place to protect you," Hakkai said. "No one else. It is strange, though. I rather thought it would be me."

"What?"

"When I imagined the rules finally coming into play. I really thought it would be me who broke them first."

"I'm not going to make this easy for you."

"I wish you wouldn't say that. We want to keep a low profile, falling out the windows in a flurry of glass isn't what you call inconspicuous."

This was not his day, Sanzo thought as he leapt to his feet and threw a punch at Hakkai's head. This was not his day at all. Hakkai countered, grazing the side of his arm with the knife.

The very notion that he was fighting Hakkai who was armed with a knife was the stuff nightmares were made of. Sanzo tread softly through the unfamiliar land, seeing the demons rise from their graves and grasp for his soul. Was this madness, he wondered, was this how the vampires lost the last of themselves?

Sanzo dodged the knife and delivered a blow to Hakkai's stomach. He heard a crunch and Hakkai let out a groan. Sanzo wasn't so lucky as to hit hard enough to damage the spine, though. The other vampire straightened and retaliated with a kick that splintered Sanzo's femur. Sanzo went down, grasping a cupboard for support.

"You of all people should know that madness grants many things, but clarity of thought and planning ahead is not one of them," Hakkai said. He picked up the knife and stood over Sanzo. "Tell me, are they here yet?"

Sanzo started.

"Oh yes, I know about the darkness. I hardly think you should be surprised. You see them yet? See them crawling out of the shadowy corners, all the people you had destroyed. I always found madness to be a bit of a paradox, myself."

Sanzo bit through his lip in an effort not to scream. The break was no great handicap, nasty though it was. The bone would heal, even without proper setting it would return to its natural state. The key word was time, of which he had none. Right now he was beaten; Hakkai needed no more advantage to do away with him.

"I don't want to die," Sanzo whispered.

"I am sorry it had to come to this. Goodbye, Sanzo."


	17. Chapter 17

LXIV.

Gojyo found Colombia to be bloody hot. "C'mon," he told Yaone over his shoulder. He was sitting over a phone in the brightly lit kitchen of le chupacabras' hacienda, his arse on one barstool, his feet on another. "I'm a Brit. There oughta be fog and chilliness for me to be happy."

"There is the morning mist," Yaone said. She held a squirming furry creature in her arms, one with teeth and nails if the scratches on her skin were any indication. Gojyo, whose knowledge of biology allowed him to distinguish between cows and horses and rats and dogs, and Chihuahuas in a good light, had no clue what it was, aside from mammalian. "Right before dawn." She picked up a knife and slit the creature's throat, holding it over a bowl until it could bleed no more.

"You can keep your dawn," Gojyo grumbled. He punched in the number again as Yaone skinned and portioned the animal. "Damn it!"

"Is he still not replying?"

"No phone calls, no texts, no emails, I'm starting to suspect he don't wanna talk to me."

"Maybe he's shopping."

"For two days? You know, if he weren't colour blind, I'd suspect he hopped to Paris for a new wardrobe, but we all know who's got the fashion bug in this relationship."

"I almost forget what colours look like," Yaone confessed. "Clothing is such a problem. Perhaps I could borrow you for a while, when you aren't busy?" Yaone filled the sink with water and salted it, then placed the edible (by human standards, Gojyo was drooling at every knobbly bit) parts in to soak. "We spend plenty of time in the hotel, and I'm beginning to suspect the long looks we get might have something to do with the colours being mismatched."

"I am willing to bet that any and all looks you receive have more to do with you being tall and fabulous. Trust me, no guy is gonna agonize over a mismatched scarf when he's looking at you.

Yaone laughed. "Still, even if it isn't me, Kougaji needs someone to look into his closet. I'm not what you would call proficient with newest fashions."

"Sure. Lemme know when you have time, better yet, come to London. We've got plenty there, and if British fashion is not your cup of tea, Paris is not far."

"I'll be looking forward to it." Yaone set up a blender and poured the blood inside, along with copious amounts of acacia honey and ice cubes. She pressed start and for a few seconds Gojyo couldn't hear the dial tone. "Drink?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Kou!" Yaone called. "Come on over, I've got drinks."

Kougaji appeared in the doorway, followed by Sanzo. Gojyo tried Hakkai's mobile one more time. Still nothing. "Fuck. Why the hell is he not responding?"

"Hakkai?" Kougaji asked accepting a frosty glass from his wife.

"Yeah. I sent an email to Goku too, no luck either."

"Goku's not replying?"

"Chill, Sanzo. He's probably out with Pip." Hitting on her, if he's got any sense, Gojyo thought, but didn't say. Now was not the time to antagonise Sanzo.

"Hakkai is alone with Goku and they are not replying?" Sanzo asked, and only now was Gojyo starting to notice the sheer wrongness of the situation.

"It ain't like we made a promise to keep in touch every three hours." He hoped the words didn't come out defensive. "From what I recall Goku dumped your arse and Hakkai ain't keen to talk to you either." He didn't say that there had been an email from Goku every couple of days so far, studious in ignoring the reason Gojyo was on the other side of the world.

"I'm surprised you're even here to begin with," Kougaji said.

"Shut up."

"Just saying. Hakkai had the right idea about the rules. I am surprised he let you off with just a warning."

"Hakkai is a big softy." Gojyo sipped at the honeyed blood. It was passable. Yaone ruled the house with an iron fist, which of course is what one needs when they try to convert a vampire to abstaining from human blood, but she made an effort to make the abstaining as close to painless as was doable.

"Why haven't you considered turning Goku?" Yaone asked. "It would solve most of your problems, wouldn't it?"

Gojyo opened his mouth to explain just why was that not feasible, when he caught sight of Sanzo's face.

"He wouldn't dare," the vampire growled.

Gojyo wasn't so sure. "I'm gonna go back," he said hopping off the barstool. "It's probably nothing, but since Sanzo is in safe hands here, I might as well go."

"You don't want to keep an eye on him?"

"I'll be back," Gojyo said just as Sanzo voiced his objection to being babysat. "Hopefully with Hakkai. We all need a holiday."

"I'm going too."

"Sit your arse down, Sanzo. Hakkai said you are to stay put, or you might lose your head."

"Fuck him and his orders!"

"Right, he said it might happen." Gojyo reached for his mobile and scrolled through the notes. "In that case, he told me to ask you whether they are still coming to claw at your skin, whatever that means." He watched Sanzo, to whom the question must have made sense, judging by the sudden paling of his visage. More bizarrely, Yaone and Kougaji too reacted. "What? You get it?"

"It's better if you don't know," Yaone said, with a forced smile. "Trust me."

"Okay…"

His mobile beeped. "Finally!" Gojyo opened the text message. "Come back," he read out loud, "take Sanzo with you."

Sanzo's hands twitched.

"Damn," Gojyo said. "I just drank the jetlag under the table."

LXV.

Hakkai wondered how was he not surprised when Goku knocked on his door the weekend following Sanzo's exile. "Hello, Goku. I'm sorry to say Gojyo is out. He won't be back for a while."

"'s okay. I wanna speak to you."

Now this was a surprise. "Come on it, then. Tea? I might have some cookies, too."

"Yes please."

Goku sat down on the couch and stared at the cast iron tea set Hakkai laid before him. He took a cookie and chewed it, but it was the action of someone who needed employment for his hands, not taste buds. "What can I do for you?"

"Sanzo isn't dead, is he," Goku said, taking a sip. He didn't look at Hakkai and he didn't make it a question either.

"No. He's not."

"So much for your rules then."

"He is away from here," Hakkai said. "I sent Gojyo after him, to make sure he is settled."

"And what then? Will you keep him locked up, wherever he went? Or is Gojyo gonna stay there forever, making sure Sanzo ain't gonna come running back to finish me off, now that he knows he can?"

Hakkai smiled. "You are overestimating your influence."

"Am I?" Goku turned his luminous eyes at him and Hakkai was forced to admit there was no overestimating the power the boy's scent and expressive eyes had. "Tell me, Hakkai, am I really that tasty? You ain't ever tried to hurt me."

"I have, shall we say, control."

"That's your reason? It kinda sucks."

Hakkai focused on his cup. "You are right. The reason I haven't made an attempt at your life, is that I have sworn off feeding directly from humans, back in the eighteen nineties. Sanzo hadn't. That makes a surprising difference when it comes to control."

"Then how do you eat?"

"Syringes and blood bags."

"Oh." Goku took another cookie. "Why didn't you kill Sanzo?"

"I owe him a great debt."

"I hate ta rain on your parade, but the whole second chance thing don't work in real life. I get it, he saved your life, you're grateful, but he killed a kid."

"He did more than save my life," Hakkai said. "He saved me." He took a deep breath. This was going to take more explaining. He understood the need Goku had to know, but he hated delving into the darkness of his past. "When I was turned, the circumstances were less than ideal. I had committed… atrocities, I think, is the only word to describe my acts sufficiently. In my grief and anger I murdered people – innocent people – for the sake of quenching my own thirst for vengeance, people whom I didn't even see as food. Don't get me wrong, even today I wouldn't say I am a moral man. But the thing I was then, neither vampirism nor grief is enough to explain.

"Sanzo saved me, back then. We didn't know one another, and yet he hunted me down and instead of putting me down, as he should have, he dragged me out of the dark pit I had burrowed myself in." Hakkai turned to face Goku, because this he needed to understand. "I let him live because what he did for me exceeded saving my life. He helped me find my soul back and I owe it to him to return the favour."

"What were ya plannin' to do about it?"

The obvious answer would be to have Goku made into a vampire, but Hakkai could hardly admit it. At least no to his face. "I have been working on the details of the plan. In any case, Gojyo is with Sanzo in Colombia, they are with Kougaji and Yaone. He will be safe and he will be well fed there." He took a sip. "Now, what are you doing here? Did something happen?"

"I've seen a vampire today," Goku said. Hakkai's tea threatened to spill. "I was on the underground, with about a million other people. I saw her teeth in the window. She was standing on the station as I left, and she looked like she was seconds away from pouncing."

"Oh." Hakkai could find no more words.

"I didn't know there's girl vampires."

"Of course there are. But I don't think you're here to talk about gender distribution."

"Hakkai, do people change when they become vampires? I don't mean the teeth, I mean – are they different? Was Sanzo ever nice?"

"I wouldn't know. I was born the same year he was turned." At this point Hakkai felt he might have an inkling of where this was going. There was the feeling of satisfaction, hot in his veins, spreading throughout his body.

"Hakkai… I need ya to turn me," Goku said and the world snapped into place. Sanzo will be saved, and Hakkai would finally see his debt paid. He wasn't counting on Goku making the choice out of his own free will, but it was a godsend. This was all that was needed to resolve the mess. Whatever Sanzo's feelings on the heavenly scent being vanquished, this was what had to happen. Best of all, however Sanzo felt about the change, if Goku arrived at the choice on his own, Hakkai couldn't be held responsible. Still, Gojyo would hurt him if he didn't ask, "are you sure you want this?"

"Of course not! I never wanted anything less in my life!" Goku clenched his hands into fists. "Except… dying. I don't wanna die, Hakkai, and the woman in the train tonight, she said she's gonna come for me."

"You've talked?"

"She kinda mouthed that in my direction. I don't wanna spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."

It would have been a very short life, in any case, Hakkai thought. "Turning into a vampire is permanent. Just because you feel that way now, doesn't mean you will want it tomorrow."

"Oh, fuck you! Ya think I ain't been thinking about it? I don't wanna do it! If there was something else I could do to stop looking like a sugarplum to you freaks, I would've done it already!"

"Sanzo is not going to be happy."

"Fuck him, too! This ain't about him, this is about me! So either you do this, or so help me, I'm gonna do it myself!"

Hakkai smiled. "How, pray tell, are you going to acquire enough vampire blood to turn yourself into a vampire?"

"I was hopin' I wasn't gonna need to," Goku admitted. He set his cup on the table. "Are you gonna do it or not?"

"Yes," Hakkai said. Of all the people to see things his way, Goku was the very last, but he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hakkai would discourage him no further, however. Whatever Goku's reasoning, this was about Sanzo, too, and he needed Goku, if he were to have his soul back.

"Okay." Goku relaxed, thought his hands trembled. Hakkai felt his heart flutter in sympathy. The poor boy was so young and terrified of the magnitude of what he'd just demanded. He'd be more terrified if he had understood the full ramifications, but Hakkai couldn't afford to delve into detail.

"You might want to prepare yourself. Call your family, call your friends, make arrangements with the university…"

"I applied for a leave of absence. I told Pip I'm gonna travel. Called my uncle." Goku clenched his hands into fists. "Do it."

Hakkai smiled and leaned into Goku. To his credit the boy didn't flinch nor move away. "I shall," Hakkai whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of Goku's ear. Goku shuddered. "But not here."

LXVI.

Goku had thought about becoming a vampire ever since he'd realised he was involved with one. How could he not? He liked to think of himself as a social creature, and though he'd been accused of having the attention span of a goldfish on drugs, his emotional attachments tended to last. The idea that Sanzo would, in a matter of years, look to be his junior bothered him greatly. More than that, the idea that Sanzo would, in a decade or so, ibe/i so much younger than him, that was truly disturbing. Goku wasn't blind nor was he stupid. Neither Sanzo nor the rest of them acted like the old men they were, which meant the whole vampire (or werewolf) thing did something to the brain.

It was stupid not to think about it earlier, before he got in so deep. Goku bit his lip. He hated himself for considering it, hated himself more for making the decision. Vampires were colour-blind, he told himself. No more movies with explosions, no more t-shirts with loud prints, no more sparkly Christmas trees. Vampires ate weird. Vampires were freaky. Vampires fucking killed people! Goku didn't wanna be one. He didn't want to look at Pip and think of how good her blood would taste. He loved the food; he loved the coffees and the teas, just as they were. Hakkai left his tea overnight to steep, sometimes. He said it was an approximation of the taste he remembered from when he was human.

Goku'd considered taking his chances. Yeah, so that fellow came close to killing him awhile back. Maybe he could learn to fight them off. He was no weakling, he could hold his own in a melee, though that wasn't an experience he was eager to repeat. He could study karate or kung fu or whatever else there was, he could start walking around with the machete underneath his arm. Hell, he could buy himself an Austin Healey and travel the country killing vamps along the way.

Goku gave that a moment's thought. With a machete in hand he at least had a fighting chance. Except… the vampires were so fast, he'd have to be psychic to stop them. He got the drop a couple of times, what if there were more? What if they were rational, and not crazy like Sanzo that one time, and that creep?

No. The answer was that there was no way in hell he stood a chance against a Gokucidal vampire. Even if he wounded one of them he was at a disadvantage, because then the vamp was stronger than him, faster than him, and angry as holy fuck. Whichever way he looked at it, he was doomed.

This was the conclusion that brought him to Hakkai's door, to the surreal conversation and, just now, an eerie phone call.

Goku watched, just a little confused, as Hakkai picked up the phone. "Good evening, Clarice," he said into the receiver. "I am well, thank you. I hope you are too." A brief pause. "I need two plane tickets for Dundee, or Aberdeen. Splendid. Yes, leaving as soon as I can get to the airport. That would be myself and Goku Son. You're very kind, thank you.

"Goku," Hakkai turned to him. "Get me your passport, please."

A little dazed, Goku fetched his passport. Hakkai rattled the number to the lady on the other side of the line. "Also, I shall require a vehicle when I arrive," he told Clarice. "A Jeep, if at all possible. Thank you Clarice."

"Where are we going?" Goku asked, his shaking fingers tight on his wallet.

"To the cabin. It shall be much safer there."

"Ya think people would try and stop you?"

"Safe from you," Hakkai said with a small smile. "Newborn vampires are unpredictable and hungry. You will be easier to control in a limited environment."

If Hakkai ever won awards, it sure as fuck wasn't for making people feel comfortable. Goku was already having second thoughts. They never went away, to be precise, but the stronger they got the sharper was the image of the vampire teeth. The woman in the underground, with her wavy black hair and a smug smile, stood with her mouth half-open in anticipation and the promise of a swift and violent death in her eyes.

"I take it you are ready to go?" Hakkai asked, and Goku nodded. He had poured more thought into this than he had ever given anything in his whole life. He was as ready as he would ever be, which is to say not very. Given the circumstances, this was the best he could hope for.

LXVII.

Goku was shaking by the time they reached the cabin. Hakkai didn't rush the journey – it was swift enough – he took the scenic route, giving Goku all the time he had to spare, in case he would change his mind. He hadn't.

"How does this work?" Goku asked, when they reached the cabin.

"I will inject you with my blood," Hakkai said. "The more I give you the faster the transformation will occur, though I have to warn you, it will not be pleasant."

"Yeah. I get that."

"Make yourself comfortable." Getting syringes on the plane was of course impossible when travelling with just the hand luggage, so Hakkai had purchased several in a drugstore along the way. He torn open the packaging of the biggest one and tied a scarf around his bicep, to find a vein. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Goku look away when the syringe broke the skin. Managing one-handed was a chore, but Hakkai drew the plunger out with his thumb, watching the dark red liquid fill the barrel.

He repeated the process until all the syringes he'd bought were full of blood. Goku was watching him and the panic hormones his body exuded got denser by the minute. Hakkai relished it. Soon the human responses would be gone, leaving Goku as devoid of smell as himself and Sanzo. It was a pity, but when it was his life at stake, sacrifices had to be made.

"Ready?" Not enough of a pity to change his mind, however.

"No," Goku said, gripping the fabric of his shirt in an effort to quell the shaking of his palms. "But what other choice do I have?"

"Saying no, for instance."

"Not gonna happen." Goku grit his teeth and Hakkai gently laid his hands on Goku's shoulders. He pushed Goku into the small room he'd occupied over Christmas. "Let's make this more comfortable. Lie down."

"Should I strip too?"

"If you wish." Hakkai acknowledged the sarcasm with a raised eyebrow. "It's not necessary. I'd rather appreciate you staying clothed, it would save me some explaining where Gojyo is concerned."

Goku kicked his shoes aside and climbed into the bed that he'd gotten quite familiar with over the course of Christmas. "Will it hurt?" Goku asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Hakkai said. He crawled over Goku, seating himself close enough to feel the warmth of his skin. He held up a syringe.

"You ain't gonna disinfect my arm first?" Goku asked, when Hakkai wrapped his arms around his bicep and squeezed, drawing out the veins in the elbow.

"What's the point?"

Goku let out a squeak when the needle pierced his skin. Hakkai pushed the plunger. For a few moments there was no reaction, then Goku started trembling. "It burns."

Truth be told, Hakkai was hoping Goku wouldn't survive the procedure. The eternal life of a vampire was no fate to wish upon a friend. Add to that the fact that Goku volunteered…

"I am sorry," Hakkai said, taking the second syringe. He wasted no time in pleasantries. He pulled down the collar of Goku's shirt and stabbed his chest with the syringe, flooding his heart with vampire blood. "Don't hate me for this. At least you will have a fair chance now. Trust me when I say death is preferable."

Goku, beyond speech now, in all likelihood couldn't understand a word. He was shaking, the corner of his mouth stained with blood from a lip split by chattering teeth.

"Hurts," he whimpered when Hakkai prepared another syringe.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to go through this."

"Did it? For you?" Goku did his best, but the shaking was getting worse. Hakkai sympathised.

"I'm far from judging something as subjective as experience, but I daresay it was worse. I had no idea what was happening, and I was given no choice."

Goku snorted, which Hakkai took to mean that choice wasn't involved. He was dead wrong about not having an alternative, and if he lived, Hakkai would be sure to tell him that. Taking his chances as a human would perhaps be noble and earn him commendation of those who valued species purity, but in terms of logical decisions it would have been foolish. He'd got lucky with the stray vampire, that he held him off long enough for Sanzo to arrive. The woman tonight would have faced no such obstacles.

Goku wouldn't appreciate the knowledge now, not when his body was wracked with tremors. He cried out again, when Hakkai injected another dose of blood into his other arm. Two more, he told himself, setting aside the empty syringe. But these would have to wait. Hakkai lay down beside the child and took him into his arms.

This was a sound choice, Hakkai told himself. This was the choice that guaranteed Goku's survival. There was precious little comfort in that, precious little comfort Hakkai had to offer, but what he could, he would provide.


	18. Chapter 18

LXVIII.

Gojyo had spent the flight from Colombia watching Sanzo. The vampire had been twitchy. Oh, he'd have killed him for suggesting the word (he was not a fucking rabbit's nose, he'd say), but it was the cold hard truth. His fingers drummed on every surface his hand found itself on, his eyes wandered, his foot tapped. Twitchy.

"Relax," Gojyo'd told him at last, leaning over the space between their seats. "You're scaring the flight attendants."

"Fuck them."

"So eager to join the mile high club?"

"Fuck you."

"I would congratulate you on your use of pronouns, if I didn't know you were already past the pre-verbal stage."

"Har fucking har, Fluffy. Shut the fuck up and fasten your seatbelt."

"Who died and made you a flight attendant?"

"Would you listen if an actual flight attendant requested you do as your friend said?" said a buxom young lady leaning over the backrest.

Gojyo grinned. Ah, the joys of flying first class.

"I wouldn't dare to refuse." The girl blushed and smiled and Gojyo finished the flight in high spirits. He might have been in a committed homosexual (but heterospecies, which satisfied his inner homophobe) relationship, but he still liked to win prizes for flirting. Other than that, the landing was uneventful. Sanzo didn't blow up from the tension, a minor miracle in the grand scheme of things.

Heathrow welcomed them with rain. "Stupid March, ran out of sun," Gojyo muttered, shouldering his bag. "What now?"

"We check the apartment."

"I think it's a safe bet they're no there anymore."

"Then what do we do?"

"We might as well check, okay, don't have a cow. Or do, some food would do you good."

"I'm this close to having a werewolf pâté."

"Lucky me, I'm poisonous."

"Shut up."

"Whatever you say, oh Prince of Darkness."

"What? Where the hell did you get such a title?"

"Because 'duke' is not fruity enough and Hakkai trumps you with his eyes closed and hands tied behind his back, ergo, he's the King of Darkness."

"Does that make you a queen then?"

"Shut up."

Sanzo closed his mouth, but the self-satisfied smile annoyed Gojyo all the way home. Which was empty. "God fucking damn it," Gojyo said, dropping his bag onto the floor. "Where the fuck is he hiding?"

"Goku's not here either." Sanzo walked in through the window. The twitching got more pronounced. "He hasn't been home for a few days."

"This is not good." Gojyo moved to the phone. Thank heavens for the redial feature. It was worth every penny.

"Clarice Russell, how may I help you?" said a woman on the other side.

Fuck, Gojyo thought. "Hey Clarice. Did Hakkai call you recently?"

"Yes, a couple of days ago. Why do you ask?"

"Ah, we had a minor spat, you could say. He wouldn't have happened to purchase a plane ticket?"

"He did, two even."

"You don't say."

"Yes, for himself and a Goku Son."

"Where did they go?"

"Dundee, Mr Sha."

Double fuck. Gojyo thrust out his arm, to stop Sanzo from hijacking the conversation.

"You wouldn't happen to have a couple spares, leaving ASAP? Aberdeen works too, Glasgow if you must, the sooner the plane leaves the better."

"Consider it done."

"Thanks, Clarice, you're a gem."

"Anytime, Mr Sha."

"They're in the cabin," Sanzo stated, glaring at the innocent phone.

"Yeah. Let's move. Clarice will have tickets waiting for us at the airport."

LXIX.

Clarice found tickets for Dundee, and when they arrived Gojyo found didn't want to wait any more than Sanzo did. They considered and then disregarded a car. "It's thirty fucking miles," Sanzo had said. "We're going to get there faster by running than if we hire a car." Their only luggage was a small bag in which they stored passports and wallets, hardly any trouble when running.

Gojyo agreed with minimal fuss. He was in favour of whatever got Sanzo to burn off some excess steam before they met Hakkai, because he couldn't help but fear Sanzo was going to kill Hakkai when he caught up. He would have stalled, but Sanzo had murder on the brain, and if Gojyo wasn't careful, it might be him who'd end up dead. With Hakkai there'd be two against one.

As Sanzo predicted, it took them less than an hour to make their way from Dundee to Glenshee and climb the distance to the cabin. They didn't knock.

"Gentlemen, what a surprise."

"Should we've called ahead?"

"This is your home, as much as it is mine." Hakkai shrugged and returned to his book. He was tired, Gojyo could tell. It raised his hackles. What in the world would make a vampire so tired in just over a week?

"Where is he?" Sanzo growled, hauling Hakkai out of his chair and up against the wall. "What have you done?"

"What I needed to," Hakkai replied coolly. "You are a fool to think everything would just fall into place."

"You had no right!"

"I had every right." The words were coming out muffled by the hand on Hakkai's throat. Gojyo dropped the shoulder bag and prepared to spring into action, should Sanzo cross a line. Not now, of course, because he too wanted answers and Hakkai was tired but not yet exhausted. "Goku came to me and asked, Sanzo. Demanded to be turned, in fact."

"You should have said no!"

"Why? Because you wouldn't like it?" Hakkai's eyes narrowed and his lips smiled, a combination that, Gojyo felt, belonged on a depiction of the devil himself. "Grow up Sanzo. The world does not revolve around you."

"He had no idea what he was asking for!"

"On the contrary. He was asking for a way to not live in fear of having his throat ripped open every day. I doubt the condition would spring surprises on him that would be worse than what he'd already imagined."

"You have no idea what he will turn into!"

"I believe we don't change, Sanzo. I believe we are not demons, nor that we lose our souls. I believe that is the reason we are so fucked up, that we despise ourselves for the hunger and death we cause, because our bodies demand it. We can spare Goku that."

"You inhuman son of a whore."

"I would ask that you stay away from the subject of my mother. She was a lady of class and propriety, despite her social standing."

Sanzo let go and Gojyo went to Hakkai's side. His vampire had already been tired, he'd need help if Sanzo decided to start a fight. "Did he really ask?" he asked Hakkai under his breath.

"I understand your opinion of my morality is low, but even I wouldn't foist vampirism on a person who was unwilling."

Yeah, Gojyo suspected as much. However a bastard Hakkai seemed, he had his ethics, which may not always coincide with what humans liked to think of as the law, but they were there.

"You agree with him?" Sanzo hissed, glaring at Gojyo, who looked him in the eye.

"What else was there to do? Sanzo, he had one vampire come after him already, there's no telling if someone else knew."

"I'd have kept him safe!"

"From Colombia?" Hakkai returned to his chair. "Your misguided attempts to keep Goku safe resulted in you breaking the rules. Make no mistake, Sanzo, I did not let you live because I believe in second chances."

"Then why did you?"

"You had saved me. Giving you a similar chance is the only way I could repay that debt."

"You can take your fucking religion and shove it up your arse. I don't need saving."

"Don't you? Then by all means, go back to London, and continue in a manner you see fit. However, be prepared to fight me, if your feeding becomes noticeable to the general public. And it will." Hakkai gripped the armrests of the chair so hard his knuckled whitened. "You are out of control even now. You have no recognition of right and wrong. You think your mind is sound, oh yes, I know how that feels. Your vision is so sharp, good and evil seems like another layer of smell, they seem so obvious. But the problem is, they shift. They are no more solid than the waves on the ocean and soon you won't be able to make the distinction, and then, I promise you, you will die.

"Hate me all you will," Hakkai added after a pause. "Do whatever you want to do. However I'm telling you, and this is not a threat, but a prediction: either you go in that room and patch up your relationship with Goku, or within a year you will find yourself headless in the Thames."

Gojyo watched Sanzo's eyes narrow. "Fuck you," he said. He walked out of the cabin, slamming the door hard enough to break the lock.

Hakkai bit his lip. "I confess I was counting on Sanzo's reason."

"I'd have bet you had more brain cells before. Seriously though, he'll come around. He's not a complete butthead. How's Goku?"

"Crazy."

Gojyo looked at Hakkai, alarmed. "That bad?"

"I can't speak for Sanzo, but I was quite the unsettling fellow when I was human, dark and twisted some would say. Goku was a loving child. The hunger hit him hard, even though I had blood in bags prepared."

"Fuck."

"He should be dozing now."

Gojyo left Hakkai's side and knocked on the door to Sanzo's room. There was no answer. He pushed the handle and poked his head in, only to bounce inside within the same second.

"He's not here." He bent over the sheets, and closed his eyes. The vestiges of the human Goku had now ceased to be still clung to the cotton, veiled with a transparent aura of a vampire he had become. "No one had been here for the past hour, how the fuck did you miss him leaving?"

"I am not a machine, Gojyo." Hakkai leaned against the doorframe, and Gojyo was struck with how pale he was. "I gave him plenty of blood," he admitted. "I hoped it would speed up the process and I had neglected to eat. Newborn vampires are ravenous."

"Shit, sit down."

"I'm fine. I am not a puny mortal, after all."

"I'll go catch something, you sit tight. If Sanzo comes back and tries anything, tell him I will hunt his ass down, rules or no rules."

"Thank you, Gojyo. Keep an eye out for Goku, too."

"Yeah, yeah."

LXX.

Sanzo stormed out of the cabin livid. There was no word in any fucking language of the godforsaken world to describe the depth of his anger. How dare he, the interfering son of a bitch, to dictate what he was allowed to do. It was none of his business!

He ran through the forest on the verge of screaming. He would have hunted, except his eyes wouldn't focus and all prey took the safer option and leapt off whatever cliffs they could find in an effort to avoid death by vampire fangs. All, except one. Sanzo paused in his step. There was a trail, hidden in the leaves and among the rocks, a scent so achingly familiar and unbearably soft.

Goku.

Against Sanzo's will his legs started following the trail. He didn't want to. He didn't want to see Goku again, ever, not when he was no longer human. Sanzo had no desire to know who this vampire was, and yet he followed, faster and faster, until he was running up the hill through the dense forest. Goku was going higher, towards the summit.

About halfway up Sanzo found a carcass of a rabbit. "Sloppy," he muttered to himself with derision. One third of the blood had been needlessly spilled. Someone needed to find the moron and teach him how to hunt, else he'd die of thirst with the feast laid out in front of his eyes.

Sanzo found Goku near the summit. The boy sat on the naked rock, barefoot, wearing nothing but his pants. There were speckles of blood on his face and arms, but not his torso. Fuck, Sanzo thought looking down. The idiot had flung his t-shirt over the precipice, and the idiocy had not stopped there. He had a knife in his hand, carving lines into the skin of his forearm.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Sanzo asked, gripping Goku's wrist and liberating him of the butterfly blade.

"'s okay," Goku said, turning his wide eyes on Sanzo. "'s healin' already."

"The fuck's that have to do with anything?" Sure the skin was mending, but the look of utmost suffering on Goku's face wasn't so quick to disappear.

If Sanzo was hoping it wouldn't be a shock to see Goku so changed, he was dead wrong. The way he was now, under the pale moonlight, he looked to Sanzo exactly like he would to any human. Robbed of colour by the light of the moon, without the golden threads of his scent, alighting the air around him. Fuck Hakkai, Sanzo thought hotly, I hope he burns in hell for this.

"I think I killed somebody," Goku said, holding up his hands. "I went out for a walk and I killed somebody. He was funny, sorta maroon and twitchy."

"It was a rabbit. You haven't been around a human being for days." Except, Sanzo realised, that wasn't true. There'd been a trace of human sweat where he'd found the rabbit, an unmistakeable sign of a human being nearby. Goku must have smelled him, the timing was exact and yet… There was not even a molecule to suggest Goku touched the man.

"Were there more?" Sanzo asked urgently, grasping Goku's arm. "Were there more people when you killed it?"

"I think so. Someone else was walkin' and he was hummin'. He was blue and the other he was maroon. I liked the maroon. 's weird, I like blue too. Sky is blue. Sky is pretty. With clouds and sun- sun is nice and warm. I wanna sun."

"Focus! The two people."

"The blue one sounded funny and I liked how he sounded. The maroon one twitched and he was so fast and I caught him. He tried to run, he was so silly. I didn't know people bled that much." Goku's head lolled back and Sanzo bit back a groan. Obviously, someone needed a new brain. "I'm going to be arrested now." He was crying now, tears streaming down his cheeks and into his open mouth, and Sanzo bit back a groan.

"It was a rabbit. Stop beating yourself up over this." Goku shouldn't, but Sanzo sure as hell would beat somebody up for this. Goku'd been out, a hungry newborn, out on his own. It didn't matter that he had been within a smelling distance of a human and killed a bloody bunny instead, someone was still going to pay, and that someone was green-eyed.

"A rabbit?" Goku stopped sobbing and turned to look at him. He blinked as if he'd only just noticed the person in front of his very eyes. "Sanzo?"

"Who the fuck you thought I was, the tooth fairy?"

"I have shiny new teeth," Goku said, his mouth falling open to reveal a row of gleaming white fangs. "You could be a tooth fairy. You should sparkle. Fairies have little sparklies followin' them."

"Did you stuff any teeth under a pillow nearby?"

"I have no pillow." Goku held out his empty hands. "I like the pillow back at home. It's so fluffy. It's not white, did you know? There's eight hundred threads in the shorter side of the pillow. I can tell. I don't even look, each feels a little different."

"Goku."

"Sanzo." Goku moved so close Sanzo found his eyes obscuring the rest of the universe. "You're here? For real?" He laid his palm against Sanzo's chest.

"We've been talking for ten minutes and only now you notice."

"Oh." Goku's hands moved up, to grasp Sanzo's face and stare into his yes. "I missed you. Hakkai wouldn't tell me when you were comin' and I was so scared and it hurt, it hurt like I was on fire, and you screamed at me, and the light hurt my eyes and--"

"Shut up," Sanzo said. Goku shut up. He rested his forehead against Sanzo's collarbone and stayed in that position, until his breathing evened out and his eyes fluttered closed. Sanzo felt the eyelashes move against his skin. He stroked the knobbles of Goku's vertebrae, his face burrowed in the unruly mop Goku considered hair.

He was still going to kill Hakkai, just for considering this, Sanzo thought as he carried Goku down the mountain.

LXXI.

Sanzo returned after Gojyo, for which Hakkai was thankful. He would have had trouble defending himself, even if he was sure Sanzo would stop short of killing him. What filled him with most hope, however, was the fact that Sanzo returned with Goku in his arms, the newborn cradled to his chest.

"I'm still going to kill you," Sanzo said before he disappeared in the bedroom. Hakkai smiled. So his gamble had paid off.

"Wow," Gojyo said. "You are a magnificent dick, but you get the job done. More rabbit smoothie?"

"Yes please." Hakkai sat back and allowed the warm and bloody feelings of satisfaction bring him back from the terror of having Sanzo furious with him.

"He's completely nuts." Sanzo's voice broke through the haze of Hakkai's feelings of accomplishment.

"Pardon?"

"He thought I was a tooth fairy. He was sitting on the edge of a fucking cliff, carving hearts into his arm with a fucking knife."

"Hearts?"

"Whatever! He's been whining about killing a rabbit!"

"Ah."

"Ah? You need to do better than that, Hakkai." Still angry. Sanzo never learned. At least this time he was angry for the right reason.

"What do you want me to tell you? He's only been a vampire for a few days, and you may not remember, but our perception is radically different. A lot more information flutters through the consciousness, which can be overwhelming."

"He killed a rabbit when there was a human around."

Hakkai's eyes opened wide. "Really?"

"What the fuck were you thinking, letting him out on his own?"

"I didn't let him out. He must have snuck out through the window."

"Great fucking job, moron. He could have killed someone! You want to deal with his breakdown when he wakes up to mangled corpse at his feet?"

"Then why don't you stand guard?" Hakkai said, a tiny smile on his face. Sanzo growled and stalked back into the bedroom.

"Did I miss something?" Gojyo appeared with a glass in hand.

"Sanzo registered a complaint."

"For?"

"Goku is crazy."

"I heard." Gojyo's worry was of epic proportions, judging by the notes his voice hit.

"He is fine," Hakkai said. "Better than fine. According to Sanzo he'd refrained from feeding on a human when given a choice."

"That's good, I guess."

"It's downright magnificent. The insanity will pass, in time." Hakkai took the glass and sipped at the cooled blood. "He's very young. I remember my first days, sensory overload, so much food walking around and no gentle heart to keep me from digging in."

"Sometimes, Hakkai, sometimes you scare me."

"Only sometimes? I need to try harder." Gojyo snorted and Hakkai smiled at the ceiling.

LXXII.

When Sanzo woke it was noon. He knew because Goku's ankle was smoking where it lay on the pillow and the sun only hit the pillow around noon this time of year. He moved away from Goku and got up to close the blinds, then watched with no small amount of fascination as the skin on Goku's leg healed. Within minutes it went from blistering to colourless.

Except…

Sanzo furrowed his brows and buried his nose in the warmth of Goku's neck. He slowed his breathing, to match the pace of Goku's and inhaled.

It wasn't colourless. Not entirely. There was a tinge of gold to it, like the light of the afternoon sun hitting a sheet, drying on the grass. Not enough to lend colour to the whiteness, but enough to bring out the essence of its lack. Sanzo devoted a moment to wondering whether he wasn't mad, if such heights of poetic effort not only originated in his brain, but made perfect sense.

Sanzo sat up and considered Goku, snuggled into the cotton. The smell was still there. Not so much the divine fragrance headier than any whiskey, but strong enough to affect the senses, and still unmistakably Goku, rich and golden.

He was still watching when Goku stirred and opened his eyes. "Sanzo," he said with a sad smile, reaching out to tangle their hands together. His hand shook, but his gaze was clear. "I'm hungry."

* * *

THE END. :)


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